


What Happened and What's Going On

by fakeheaux



Category: Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - X-Men Fusion, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Child Death, F/F, F/M, Girls with Guns, Guns, Hate Sex, Hiding, Infanticide, Internalized Homophobia, LONG NOTES, Long summary, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutant Powers, Self-Hatred, Serious Injuries, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, Work In Progress, X-Men References, attempted genocide, people with powers, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 74,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7034338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeheaux/pseuds/fakeheaux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hates it. He hates that this is what it's come to, all because of the fear that's slowly overtaking everyone.</p><p>But he has no choice. He didn't ask to be drafted, but now that it's happened, he's obligated to follow orders.</p><p>God knows Higgins loves his orders.</p><p>So he closes his eyes.</p><p>And he takes the shot.</p><p>--<br/>In a world where mutants are broadcasted as being crazy and out of control, every country has a specialized military unit that 'deals' with them. Everyone knows that 'deals' is just another word for 'kills.'</p><p>Ireland, being so small, is contracted to send any drafted soldiers to England's training bases, where they will train with England's finest. Niall, after being taken from his family at the age of fifteen, has been 'dealing' with mutants for four years now. He's used to it. But when his brother gives him unexpected and unwelcome news, everything Niall knows is turned on its head. He travels back home against his will, and learns that his home holds many more secrets than he had ever hoped to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first chaptered fic! I'm sorry for the long summary, and equally sorry for this long note.
> 
> First, I want to make it clear that while this verse is heavily inspired by X-Men, there's a vast difference in plot from the movies and possibly the comics.
> 
> Second, I will add extra tags as the story continues, and am open to any trigger warning suggestions. I will also put trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter, should there be any. If I miss anything, feel free to call me out on it.
> 
> Third, I'm going to make character roles clear right now so that no one gets confused along the way. Non-mutants include: Niall, Paul, Greg, Harry, Liam, Jesy, and Leigh Anne. Mutants include: Louis, Bressie, Jade, Perrie, Zayn, Lux, Theo, and Muara.
> 
> I'm excited for this, but I'll be brutally honest - chapters may not be long, and may not come frequently. Summer is just around the corner, and I've been trying to get a job, so if I do get one, I'll be very busy with that. If not, then I'll be very depressed and busy with that. I'm sorry in advance.
> 
> If you stuck around this long, thank you, and enjoy!
> 
> P.S. Unbeta'd and all mine, I do not own One Direction, Little Mix, Niall Breslin, any member of the Atkin/Horan families, or X-Men. Please do not show this to any of them should the opportunity ever arise. Also don't sue me.

**What Happened**

He is in his room when they come knocking on the door. He can hear his mam speaking with a man whose voice is very deep, with an accent like his own but washed out by the British kind.

That alone tells him what was going on.

That and his mam's shaky yet resolute voice saying, "No, you can't have him, he's just a boy!"

He wonders, briefly, how they even found him. He's usually with his da, came to his mam's for the weekend on a spur. His bag is still packed, he only arrived about an hour ago.

The man comes stomping into his room, his mam in tears hanging off his elbow. A blonde lady, uniform matching the man's, gently pulls her off, says something about an orientation that parents of draft subjects are permitted to.

He takes a deep breath when the man says his name.

"Niall James Horan?" He nods. "You've been drafted into Her Majesty's Special Forces for Humanity. Come with me."

It's not a request, but a demand. He swings his bag over his shoulder and follows.

His mam cries, hugging him tight and apologizing. He gives her a kiss and says he'll write every day.

The draft laws state that he can bring any special articles from home, so he asks to stop by his da's to grab his guitar. Turns out that's where they'd gone first, how they knew where he was. His guitar is in the trunk of the car when he throws his bag in.

A girl is in the backseat when he slides in, eyes rimmed in red and glowing with anger. He waves.

She doesn't wave back.

The training lasts three years, according to the pamphlet they give him when they arrive to the London base. They room him with a taller boy, Liam, who has big brown eyes and shares his middle name.

They tell him that everything he needs to know can be found in his pamphlet, or in the orientation video that he can watch at any time in his room.

He cries the first night. It's the only time.

Over the course of three years, he breaks his knee twice, has it operated on three times. The last time, the doctors give him an iron kneecap, which he didn't know was possible but thinks is pretty cool.

Over the course of three years, he learns the history of the mutants, learns why they're bad and why they need to be stopped.

Over the course of three years, he becomes the best in his rank, and is promoted to Captain of his team. He requests that Liam be put on it.

Over the course of three years, he loses hope that this will ever be over, that they'll ever leave the mutants be.

Over the course of three years, he loses himself.

**What's Going On**

"How's it lookin'?" Liam's voice filters in through Niall's earpiece, crackly with static.

"Pretty bleak to be fuckin' honest," he mutters in reply. "There's nothing here."

Liam's scoff is like a loud burst of static, only more irritated. "Well, Captain, you're the one who got the tip and decided to move in, so. Your fault."

Niall rolls his eyes. "Shut up, Payno. And move out, the place is empty." He directs this last bit to the other two team members on the comm, Jesy and Leigh Anne. Normally there's five of them, but Niall told Harry to stay back. Didn't want to deal with his huffy attitude on a mission.

He takes one last look at the ground floor as everyone else trickles out, and his eyes catch on a hidden door beneath the rug. He swallows hard, dreading what he knows is coming.

Sensing his hesitation, Liam steps forward. "Captain?"

Niall nods him ahead. "Go on. I've got this one."

The rug is heavy, thickly woven, and hard to kick aside with just his foot. He leans over, throwing the corner across the floor. The trapdoor is just big enough to fit him, he can tell just by looking.

He braces himself for any range of sights as he slowly swings it open. The hinges squeak from disuse, and he winces.

The torch on his gun illuminates a dusty set of stairs, and he sees fresh footprints. Swallowing hard, he begins his descent, rifle up and ready.

The sight that meets him makes him want to throw up. His rifle lowers against his will.

It's a small family, reflective of the one pictured in about a dozen frames up above around the house, except for who he assumes is the mam. Probably working. Three kids, all no older than fifteen, the youngest one being about two. He doesn't need to remember the tip the neighbor gave him to know the youngest is the one.

The mutant.

Her skin is aglow, rendering Niall's own torch useless with the way she's softly lighting up the room. _Like TinkerBell, she is,_ he thinks faintly.

The oldest, a young boy with a shock of red hair, holds her close. "You can't have her, she's just a baby."

The words are so similar to what his own mam said when he was drafted that he almost bursts into tears, right there.

But he doesn't.

"I've got no choice, lad," he murmurs. "She's just a babe now, but in about three years she'll be a menace to society, just like the rest of 'em."

"You can't know that!" The boy shouts, voice cracking. Niall's brow furrows. He almost considers walking back up the steps, saying that the basement was empty of anything but old boxes.

He can't though. So he raises his rifle, ignoring the screams and terrified whimpers of the children, and looks through the scope to take his aim. The boy hasn't thought the cover his sister, not yet, so Niall's shot is all clear.

 _Take the shot,_ he thinks. Strangely, his voice sounds like Colonel Higgins's did during his training. _Take the damn shot, Horan, or you'll be a traitor to your own kind!_

He hates it. He hates that this is what it's come to, all because of the fear that's slowly overtaking everyone.

But he has no choice. He didn't ask to be drafted, but now that it's happened, he's obligated to follow orders.

God knows Higgins loves his orders.

So he closes his eyes.

And he takes the shot.

The team all give him pitiful looks when he resurfaces, the screams and cries off the other two kids still ringing out into the night. He's holding the girl in his arms, body somehow still giving off a faint glow.

"Almost beautiful," Leigh Anne comments.

Jesy snickers. "Yeah, till you find out her skin's poisonous or will make you go blind or some other shit. Nothing beautiful about those freaks." She produces a body bag from who knows where, and opens it up. "Go ahead, Captain."

Niall has to turn away when the zipper is pulled closed.

When they get back to base, Harry is gone, his things cleared out from the room. A note on the pillow says that he can't do it anymore, can't support this 'unjust cause.' Says it's not right. He doesn't mention the more personally issues between the two of them, and Niall could cry with relief.

He doesn't, though, because this makes Harry a traitor and an outlaw. He's defected, and Niall's next mission detail will probably be to hunt him down and kill him, too.

He takes about three showers that night, but none of them can really wash off the feeling of uncleanliness he has stuck to his skin. He's used to it. It's like this after every mission.

He's not sure how to get rid of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's not much," he murmurs. "But it will hold you over until we get back to base." He moves to pull his hands away, but Niall grabs them in his, ignoring the hot rush of embarrassment that spreads through him.
> 
> "You did great, Styles." He states. His eyes meet Harry's. "Not one of us would have made it out of there without you."
> 
> Bashful, Harry shrugs and pulls his hands away, sitting fully in his seat. "Just wrapped up some wounds, really."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two yaaay!!! Just to let you guys know, the format will be the same for every chapter, with a what happened section and a what's going on, until I find them no longer relevant or necessary.
> 
> Also, I've no specific posting scheduling sooo.
> 
> Also also, I live in the usa, so forgive me if anything is incorrect in terms of slang and stuff I guess. I kind of don't care but don't tell anyone.
> 
> Also also also, I've started a tag for this on tumblr, so just go to my page, fourgoddesses.tumblr.com, and look up the WHWGO tag. There's a few things so far, just things for reference on their uniforms and stuff I guess. Yup. 
> 
> Also also also also (sorry), I am making up a totally different kind of government in general here, so. Yeah

**What Happened**

The team doesn't need a nurse. Everyone knows it, but no one has the guts to tell the Colonel. So here they are, three missions in with a jumpy kid who's never been in the field before.

"Just - stop moving, would you?" Niall snaps. The boy - Niall can't remember his name, doesn't really want to - looks up from where he was wriggling in his seat, startled.

"Sorry," he whispers. Niall can't say why, seeing as they're in the Rover on the way to the suspected mutant's location. It's perfectly okay to talk at a normal level, maybe even to scream the way Leigh Anne and Jesy are right now.

Niall shakes his head, disbelieving. It was bad enough they had the audacity to suggest they'd need a pocket-nurse when they've never come back to base with so much as a scratch, but to give them a kid? Absolutely ridiculous. If he knew it wouldn't land him three months cleaning duty, Niall'd tell Higgins off.

The rest of the ride is quiet, at least in the backseat. Liam refuses to talk before missions, always needs to get into the mindset as early as possible, and the girls like to keep to themselves. They say the boys don't ever understand what it is they're saying. Niall suspects they just don't like them.

When they arrive to the location, Leigh Anne lets out a slow whistle. "Who knew the freaks could be loaded?"

Harry's brow furrows. "They're not freaks, they're people. Just like us.

Jesy actually laughs. "Alright, love, and I'm the Queen." She looks at Leigh, points back at Harry. "Can you believe that? 'People' my ass. Anyone who has ungodly powers like them's a freak, and rightly so."

When it's made clear that neither Harry nor Jesy will let the subject drop, Niall intervenes.

"Quit it, you two. We're supposed to be in and out in less than an hour; can't do that with you bickering." He shoots Jesy a look. "'Sides, you should know better than to get into it with the new guy. Not used to how it is, yet, is he?"

Jesy rolls her eyes, scoffing. Harry just looks affronted.

Niall really regrets being drafted.

*•*•*

So Niall was wrong. He's not too prideful to admit it, especially when he and Leigh Anne almost died today.

The mission was supposed to be simple; in and out in less that an hour, and the time crunch would only be because of how big the house was. It was true, what Jesy said, about the mutant being loaded. Turns out he had a sort of Midas complex, only the objects he touched only turned to gold if he wanted them to.

Niall'd almost had a stroke upon entrance, the room was so bright.

The gold wasn't the mutant's only ability, though. His touch could also, upon urging, excrete an acidic substance when touching another person.

That's where Harry came in.

"It fucking burns, Niall!" Leigh Anne growls, angry tears dripping down her face. Liam's driving like a madman, sirens on blast, and yet it still doesn't seem fast enough.

"I know, trust me," he winces, pressing down on the patch of skin on his leg that's blistering. "Just let the kid take care o' you."

Harry's head snaps up at the mention of him, and his eyes widen when he sees what Niall's doing. "Stop touching it!" He snaps, reaching over Leigh Anne and smacking his arm. He immediately returns to bandaging her shoulder, but keeps a sharp eye on Niall.

"Why the fuck not?" He grumbles.

Rolling his eyes and tying off the bandage, Harry climbs over Leigh and pushes her into his seat. "The venom was able to go through both of your suits; it'll go through your gloves too."

His fingers are steady as they pry the tattered edges of Niall's trousers away from the burn. Niall tries to hide his wince, but the flicker of Harry's eyes tells him he's unsuccessful.

Unable to bear the pain anymore, the Captain closes his eyes, clenching his jaw. He can still hear Leigh Anne whimpering in her seat, and remembers how she had cried out when the mutant threw himself on top of her.

A sudden cooling sensation numbs the pain, and Niall opens his eyes in question. Harry is applying some sort of salve, and while upon first contact it soothes the burn, it fades away soon enough. With soft, assuring fingers, Harry lays down a bandage. His fingers linger over the edges, and Niall can see that they're finally shaking.

"It's not much," he murmurs. "But it will hold you over until we get back to base." He moves to pull his hands away, but Niall grabs them in his, ignoring the hot rush of embarrassment that spreads through him.

"You did great, Styles." He states. His eyes meet Harry's. "Not one of us would have made it out of there without you."

Bashful, Harry shrugs and pulls his hands away, sitting fully in his seat. "Just wrapped up some wounds, really."

Niall shakes his head. "We couldn't have done it without you, lad. Leigh and I would be in a hell of a lot more pain right now." He nudged his knee against the younger boy's. "Keep it up."

Harry doesn't move his knee away for the rest of the ride.

And no one needs to know, but neither did Niall.

**What's Going On**

Higgins calls him into his office the next day, under the pretense of having important information. Instead, he wants news on Harry. Niall tells him the truth, because how could he not, and shrugs when Higgins asks where he could have gone.

"The two of you were - together, weren't you?" Higgins asks. Niall's eyes flash toward him, and he can feel them shake with the intensity with which he stares. Higgins shrugs. "Pretty obvious, innit?"

Niall's breath is short. "No, no weren't. We roomed together, and we were close, but we weren't - like _that_."

Higgins brow furrows in confusion. "But Payne said-"

"Payne doesn't know shit, okay?" Niall snaps. "I don't know where Harry is or where he would go or why he left." He stands. "Permission to be dismissed, sir."

Still looking confused and a tad worried, Higgins nods. "Permission granted."

Niall is out the door before the sentence is finished.

*•*•*

Liam finds him standing on the pier, the water of the lake on base grounds shining brightly in the sun. He sits down next to him. "Colonel Higgins said you were upset with me?"

A loud rush of air flows out of Niall. Liam grimaces.

"That sounded heavy." He intones. Niall rolls his eyes.

"Not allowed to breath anymore, am I?" He mutters. He fingers the bracelet around his wrist, the one his mum had made with his home coordinates engraved into the metal. He shakes his head. "M'not upset with _you_ , just. I'm upset with the whole situation. Harry left, which is just, like. What the fuck. And then Higgins expects me to know where he's gone, where he might go, which. Why isn't he asking you, or Leigh Anne? Why am I the only one being questioned?"

He doesn't have to look at Liam to see the incredulous look on his face. Liam has certain types of silence, and this just. Sounds incredulous.

"Niall," he says slowly. "You two were sleeping together. Of course we'd figure that you have some sort of idea of where he's going."

Clenching his jaw, Niall turns to look out over the water. "Don't know what makes you think we were like that, Payne."

Liam gives him a Look. "My housing unit is right next to yours, _Captain_." He says the title mockingly. "I heard you guys, and I know it wasn't anything too mate-specific." He scoffs, shaking his head. "I've become extremely familiar with you how sound during sex, scarily so."

Niall can't help the way his heart pounds, the sudden rush of shame that flows through him. He stares at his denim clad knees folding over the pier, eyes automatically landing on the place where he knows his scar lays. "I don't know what you think you heard, Payne, but it wasn't the two of us. Not together, at least." He says. He shakes his head, hair falling over his forehead.

Liam's brow furrows. "I guess I heard wrong, then." He looks ahead, over the water to the other side of the lake, where a small obstacle course is set up for training. "Still, though, you were the closest to Harry; if anyone could get into that curly head and figure out where he went it's you."

With a loud scoff, Niall gives Liam an incredulous look. "You're the one who got on with him from the start, mate. If anyone was closest to him it was you. Otherwise he would've been telling me all about his family and his sister back home and whatnot."

"Not really, no," Liam laughs. He only told me that stuff instead of you because you were never around to hear it. We all know that if he could've bent anyone's ear, he'd choose you in a heartbeat. It was clear as crystal, Niall."

Shrugging, Niall moves to stand up. "Whatever you say, Lieutenant." And he leaves Liam gaping at him from where he's lying.

*•*•*

They get sent out on another mission that night. He doesn't understand why it's almost always nighttime when they do it. It's not going to hide their deeds anymore than daylight will.

Leigh Anne drives, as per, but this time Niall sits up front with her. The car is unusually quiet, what without Jesy and Leigh Anne bickering, and Harry's random and seemingly aimless tangents. He'd gone on for almost three hours, once, when they'd been driving up to Newcastle on an informed mission, only to conclude with, "That's how I learned how to ride a bicycle."

Jesy had almost hit him.

But Niall doesn't need to see Liam's concerned stare out of the corner of his eye for however long this will take. Feeling it in the side of his head is bad enough.

The flat is relatively normal, by a small university and most likely filled with students. They climb to the third floor quickly and quietly, their breath barely labored when they make it. They line up at the door, two on each side, and Niall presses his ear to the door, ignoring the way his helmet pressed against his skull. He hears nothing, and knocks twice, sharp.

"William Jameson, SFH." He calls. There's no answer, not even a sound. People never answer once they hear the acronym. Sighing, Niall holds up two fingers and bends them forward twice. _Move in._

First, Niall tries the knob to see if, by chance, it's unlocked. When it's not, Liam produces a small but very capable battering ram, and slams the door open on the first try. They enter in order of rank, Niall as Captain, Liam as First Lieutenant, Leigh Anne as Second Lieutenant, and Jesy as Sergeant, guns aimed high and guards up.

They find a young man, maybe their age or a little younger, sitting on the couch directly across from the door. He looks angry, but like he's given up. Niall knows how he feels.

Swallowing hard, he opens his mouth to read him the Conventional Citizens Act, the one shared by almost every country, that was drawn up once the UN realized how dangerous mutants could be.

"William Jameson, under the CCA, you have been deemed by Her Majesty's Special Forces for Humanity to harbor unlawful and supernatural abilities, which may lead to the detriment of society. By law, you are to be executed immediately. If you believe our claims to be false, speak now."

For some ridiculous reason, the Act is only to be read if there is an adult present. It's crazy, irrational, and just plain stupid, but Niall doesn't make the rules.

The boy doesn't say anything, just stands slowly, hands raised. The team tensely turns off their safeties. Four little read beams make themselves at home on the boy's chest. He stands there, face blank.

Growing uneasy, Niall repeats the last bit of the Act. Slowly, a smirk grows on the boy's face. "I suppose me asking why you're doing this won't get me an answer, right?"

Leigh Anne growls behind Niall. "I suppose you're a lot smarter than you look. Which isn't very."

"Lieutenant," Niall snaps. He hears her shift, sees the little beam from her gun waver. He keeps his eyes on the boy. "Mr. Jameson, if you have any questions, or any last words, please feel free to say them. Otherwise we do have to move forward with our investigation."

The boy laughs once, loud and sharp, eyes widening a fraction. "Investigation?" He asks, incredulous. "This isn't an investigation, you said so yourself; this is an _execution_."

"Fine." Shoulders tightening with tension, Niall repeats himself, changing the wording. "If you have any questions, or last words, feel free to say them. Otherwise we will have to move forward with our execution."

The boy laughs without mirth. "That's more like it. Now, I do have a question, though." His grin grows decidedly darker and, tilting his chin down, he looks up at them from beneath his lashes. _Drama queen._ "How do you feel about dying?"

"Is that a threat?" Liam barks, stepping forward. Gritting his teeth, Niall steps out in front of him, not turning his back on the boy. "Payne, calm yourself."

Sounding just like Leigh Anne, Liam growls low in his throat. Niall's never been able to do that. It's always made him burp, for some reason.

Clicking his safety back on, Niall holsters his gun, raising his hands as a show of peace. "What do you mean?"

Seeming none too concerned with his imminent death, the boy sits back down. "I'm a mutant, it's true. Not gonna claim to be something I'm not. But I'm a great mutant. I absorb all energy, and release it at up to tens times its worth. So you can shoot me all you like, but all it'll do is make me even stronger. And, subsequently, kill you."

Damn it. He's a special case, this one. They'll have to take him into protective custody. Niall nods, and turns his head to Jesy. "Sergeant, if you would, please step out and call Colonel Higgins, and inform him of the turn of events. Let him know we'll need an extraction team with an enforced vehicle. Tell him it's urgent."

He sees her do as he says in his periphery, and turns back to William. "You're going to have to come with us, Mr. Jameson."

"And if I say no?" He asks, reclining and crossing his legs.

"Then you'll be resisting arrest. It'll only make matters worse for you, lad; you're already an outlaw." Niall answers.

The boy's face glows with a sudden rage, and he stands up angrily. The Lieutenants flank Niall without hesitation, moving as one. "An outlaw? For what, for being _born_? I couldn't help being born the way I am, alright, and you've no right to tell me that I don't deserve to live just because you might be _afraid_ of me. I'm _talented_ , you twats, not _dangerous_."

Niall shakes his head. "I don't make the laws, lad. I only enforce them."

"Then you're just as bad as those who do make the laws!" William yells. "You're killing innocents, and for what? Half of them couldn't overtake your stupid government if they _tried_ , their mutations are so simple. You killed a two year old girl just yesterday night! And she didn't do anything!"

Breath shortening, Niall takes half a step back. He's heard of the underground 'rebellion,' of course, the social sites accessible only to the mutants, radio shows run by them and heard by them. No one knows how they do it, ensure that those listening and participating are actually mutants and only mutants, but they do. And apparently they're really on top of things.

Regaining his composure, Niall straightens his posture and strengthens his stance. "You're coming with us to be put into protective custody, where you will remain until a method of execution can be figured out. End of discussion." He nods at Leigh Anne, who promptly shoots William.

He stumbles back in surprise, falling onto the couch, and pulls the tranquilizer dart out of his shoulder. "What the fuck?" He slurs, before promptly passing out.

"How'd you know I had those?" Leigh Anne asks, impressed. Niall shrugs.

"Saw you loading them before we came up."

*•*•*

He gets three days of relative peace before a letter is found in his mailbox. He can't help his grin when he sees his brother's familiar scrawl on the envelope. Their relationship isn't the best, as they're too far apart in age to really be in the same mental state, anything more than acquaintances, but Greg likes to keep him informed on his son, Theo. If Niall has a favorite member of the family, it's Theo.

The lad's only about three, but he's the nicest person he knows. Apart from maybe Liam. And Harry, before he left.

He makes sure he's safely tucked away in his flat before sitting at his desk and tearing open the envelope. There's nothing to be ashamed of, he knows; the soldiers get mail from the friends and family who don't live on base all the time. He just tends to get a dopy smile whenever he reads about whatever crazy toddler antics Theo's been up to lately, or whenever he sees a picture, and everyone likes to tease him. It's whatever, not a big deal, but he'd like to get through a whole letter before being interrupted.

He quickly sets the picture included aside, to put up on his growing collage later.

_Dear Niall,  
Sorry I haven't written in a while, Denise and I have been busy with Theo. He's grown so much since you saw him last, and he's definitely changed quite a bit._

_Niall, I need to know that what I'm telling you will be kept between us. Denise and I debated over whether or not we should even say, but I decided you had a right to know, as you're family._

_But you need to swear on your life, or more accurately your nephew's life, that you won't tell a soul what I say._

_I'm taking a huge risk here, Niall. I'm not there to monitor your reaction, or make sure you don't go straight to your commanding officer with this letter. But it needs to be said. Because I also need a favor of you._

_Theo has been developing at an extraordinary rate, you know this, and at first we thought he was just an incredibly smart boy. But it turns out that he's actually a mutant. He's not only quite smart for his age, but he can make random items come to life. We noticed when he was playing with his toys one day without touching them. He can make things do whatever he wants them to, Niall, and it's indescribable._

_I know the laws, I know what is going to be done when this gets out. But I can't let it happen. So I'm asking you to take Theo somewhere safe. Since you're in the SFH, you know how to stay under the radar and how to avoid the authorities. I know you'll be able to get Theo there much quicker than I or Denise could._

_There's a compound out here in Ireland, quite close to home actually. Well, relatively close. Maybe a day's journey by car, about two by foot. You could get him there in one piece, and I know he would be safe. We would be right behind you, and we'd meet you there, but we wouldn't be able to protect him the way you could. We don't know the habits of the SFH, and we don't know how they think. You do._

_Please, Niall, come home and help us. We're not very close, never been, I know. But I need you to do this for me. Please._

_If you haven't replied, or aren't home by the sixth, I'll know we can't rely on you, and we'll be gone by the time the SFH have come._

_I'm asking as your brother, but also as the father of your nephew. This is a very big decision for us, and I hope we can trust you._  
_Love,  
Greg_

Niall sits back, mind reeling and mouth agape. This makes no sense. Theo can't be a mutant, he's perfectly normal. This is. It's just. There's no way.

He scrambles to pick up the picture, crinkles the edges in the process. He can't bring himself to mind as he sees what Greg was talking about.

In the picture, Theo is sitting with his legs crossed on the floor. He's grinning, possibly shrieking in delight as he tends to do, hands pauses mid-clap. His gaze is directed at two toys, which seems to be hovering in the air and fighting, or something.

Niall can't breath.

His nephew is a mutant. Unless his brother is playing an awful - and incredibly illegal - prank on him.

He checks the date on his phone. The fifth. He has a day.

He doesn't know what to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her face softens, and she sits back down. She places a hand on his arm, and he doesn't pull away even though he wants to. He only ever really like his mum touching him. "Love, it's not wrong to be like me. I know that all your teachers and friends and their parents might say so, but it's not. It's completely normal; why do you think there are so many of us?"
> 
> He shrugs and she smiles. "I don't think that you should believe everything people tell you. Try and figure things out for yourself, yeah?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Here we are :) just to let you all know, I changed my username, and my tumblr url! My tumblr is now fourgoddesses, and as you can see my ao3 is now fakeheaux...
> 
> Just to let you know, I based my knowledge of Theo's personality off my own experience with toddlers his age, so. Some obviously are more advanced than others, but the average one is roughly as talkative as he is. Also! I've been trying to make chapters longer, because I personally love really long chapters that make you wonder if you're reading a one chaptered fic or if the chapter is just that long, but it's hard lol. So bear with me :)
> 
> PS. The girl Greg brings home early on in the chapter is named Ciara, which is pronounced kee-ruh. It's an Irish name that means dark haired one...the definition isn't important I just thought it was cool :)))

**What Happened**

Niall's nine when he first hears Greg's opinion on mutants. He's been holed up in his room, on his mobile with his mate from school, and Niall just happened to be picking up one of his toys when he heard them talking. It's definitely not a conversation he should be listening to.

"Yeah, she is, I'm telling you!" Greg laughs. He pauses, then cackles loudly. "I'm telling you mate, she's one of 'em! One of them - them specials, ya know. Heard she can stretch real far, s'why she's such a great gymnast." Another pause, longer this time. "Well, I definitely wouldn't say no to that being in me bed, yeah? Imagine the sex!"

Later, when Niall asks, he just rolls his eyes and hits him over the head. "Stop eavesdropping on me conversations, Niall. Know that's wrong."

Over the years, Greg never _explicitly_ states that he has a thing for mutants, but Niall figures out that he has a thing for mutants. What kind of thing, Niall isn't quite sure, but a thing nonetheless. He sticks up for them at the dinner table, goes out on dates with the birds who're rumored to be that way, changes the channel when all that government propaganda comes on the telly about why they're bad.

The big surprise is when he comes home one day with a girl and says she's a mutant. Niall is twelve. She has no shame, isn't embarrassed or bashful. She wears it like a crown, her mutation, even though it isn't anything obvious until you make her excited in any way. Her skin could grow intricate patterns, almost like Celtic knots in its ever-connecting way. Look like tattoos, they do.

Niall isn't sure what to think of her, just sits and talks with her because he knows that's what Greg wants, is why he brought her home. They chat about simple things, and it's relatively nice until he mentions Derby County and her eyes go wide in disbelief.

"I love Derby! I went to a game just a few years ago, was the best day o' me life!" She exclaims, and Niall sees a blossom of color start to bloom on her forehead. She's getting excited, keeps talking about the game and how, even though Derby lost, she'd never had more fun. All the while, the knots start to slide down her face, stream onto her neck, and Niall doesn't know if he should point it out or what.

Greg, who's just coming in from the kitchen, notices the way Niall's looking at her. "Stop staring, Niall, that's rude." He snaps. The girl stops talking, looks between the both of them curiously. The patterns are still seeping through her skin, trailing down her shirt and coming out of the sleeves.

"It's fine, Greg," she says, smiling. "He's interested, it's no big deal."

Shaking his head, Greg takes a few steps forward. "Do you not see how he's looking at you?" He asks. He points at Niall, whose face grows hot. "That's not interest, Ciara, that's disgust. Look at him!"

Ciara doesn't. She stands up, folding her arms across her chest. The patterns are growing thicker, longer, trailing over every inch of visible skin now. "Greg, he's just a boy, alright, he doesn't know. Watch." She turns to Niall. "Do you not like the way I look like this? Or do you think it's cool, or actually quite nice, or whatever?"

He flounders for an answer, stammering out small noises. "I - I dunno, I'm sorry. They're - they're cool, I guess, but. Isn't that wrong?"

Her face softens, and she sits back down. She places a hand on his arm, and he doesn't pull away even though he wants to. He only ever really like his mum touching him. "Love, it's not wrong to be like me. I know that all your teachers and friends and their parents might say so, but it's not. It's completely normal; why do you think there are so many of us?"

He shrugs and she smiles. "I don't think that you should believe everything people tell you. Try and figure things out for yourself, yeah?"

The next day, Greg comes storming into the house after work. Niall's sitting on the kitchen counter even though he's not supposed to, eating some stew and doing his homework. He makes to jump off when he hears Greg, but his brother comes storming in and pushes him against the wall behind him, legs dangling in a much less fun way.

"Who the _feck_ did you tell, eh?" He yells. His face is blotchy and eyes are red, like he's been crying. "Who?!"

Niall shakes his head, eyes wide. "I dunno - I dunno what you're talking about-"

"Don't lie!" Greg pulls him away from the wall and slams him back into his, stealing the breath from him and leaving a jarred feeling in his chest. "I know you told someone about Ciara, I know you did!"

Terrified, Niall just keeps shaking his head. "I didn't, I swear! I didn't tell anyone, cos you said not to! Stop, Greg, you're hurting me!" He tries to wrestle his brother's fingers out of his shirt, but Greg grabs his hands and pulls them away.

"She's dead now, alright! You told and so they went into her house last night and _killed_ her!" His voice cracks. "I know you were on the phone with Eoghan last night, I know you told him!"

Niall does the only thing he can think of, and his hand scrambles for his textbook beside him. When he has a good grip, he swings it up, hitting Greg upside the head with it. It lands hard, and Greg reels back from the hit, clutching his head.

Eyes wide, Niall hops down from the counter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I - you wouldn't let go, you weren't listening! I didn't know what else to do, I'm sorry!" He cries out. Greg shakes his head.

"You're a liar," he says, low. The anger seems to have seeped out of him, left him with no energy. "You're a liar, and you're a snitch, and you killed Ciara. Hell, you almost killed me just now." He looks up, and their eyes meet, both watery with tears. "She's dead now, and it's your fault."

And then he leaves, slamming the front door behind him.

**What's Going On**

Niall asks for some time off. He gets it, a whole week, and even though Higgins says that it's because he's never asked for time off in his years of service, he knows it's because Harry left and everyone thinks he's Freaking Out. He's not. He's _not_ worried that Harry will get himself killed. He's _not_ worried that he'll be found and thrown into jail for desertion. He's _not_ worried that his team will be the one sent to retrieve him. He's _not_ worried that he'll be given the order to execute Harry.

He's not.

So he packs up a meager bag of meager belongings, clothes and the like, and decides to bring his guitar at the last minute. He doesn't play much, anymore, but maybe he'll have enough time in the Gar to take a break and wind down. If the stress of this whole Theo thing doesn't kill him first.

He takes the ferry, because the airport is too much fuss, and takes a cab to Bobby's house. He's not there when Niall arrives, is at work like usual, but has left a note on the table saying that he can help himself to anything, and includes Greg's new address.

After an hour of sitting in complete silence, Niall gives in and pulls out the letter again. He stares at the picture, gnawing on his lip. How could he make a decision as big as this? It's one extreme or the other.

On the one hand, protecting Theo and taking him to this place Greg mentioned would be just as bad as Harry skipping out, if not worse. He'd be deserting his post, not to mention his team, and protecting an outlaw while he was at it. There's no way he can do it without breaking at least one law, and that's not how he lives. Granted, it's because he's a law enforcer, but.

On the other hand, this is his nephew. His three year old nephew who hasn't done anything wrong. Which is extremely hypocritical of him to think, because isn't he the one who just shot and killed a toddler not three days ago?

But this is his family. If he wasn't to protect his own family, what kind of person would he be? It's unthinkable, no matter how the situation is looked at.

And then there's this 'place' that Greg wants him to take Theo to. According to Greg, it's full of other mutants, probably _only_ has mutants living there on the lamb, and Greg is asking him to go there. There's probably a one in five chance that he's killed someone they know, by now. At the very least. Inviting an SFH soldier to a possible mutant hideout is not Greg's best idea.

There's nothing left for him to do. He's a traitor either way, to his country or to his family. To his friends or to his nephew. To the people he killed or the people he might be saving.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. There's only so much thinking one can do on a subject like this. It's a losing situation no matter how he looks at it. But there's no question. Killing his own nephew is not an option. He'd rather die himself, than let that boy be killed. It's just. How could he have done what he has, and expect to be able to redeem himself just by saving his nephew. He'll look like an idiot, changing his moral opinions just because his nephew ended up being a mutant.

"What the fuck," he mutters into the open air. Just to say it, to let out these conflicting feelings boiling inside himself. Just to let it be known. Just to know he can.

Shaking his head, he grabs his bag and heads out the door.

He's got a nephew to save.

*•*•*

Denise is almost in tears when she opens the door.

"Please tell me you're going to help us," she says, not letting him through.

Face stony, he nods once. "There's no other option, innit?"

Her face collapses in relief and she pulls him into a hug, dragging him into the house. She stops him in the hallway, hands on his shoulders. "Listen," she says. "Greg wasn't too keen on this idea; I wrote half the letter meself. But he will appreciate this. And I know you're probably going to be convicted with desertion but. We didn't know what else to do."

Niall nods, shrugging. "Technically I'll only be convicted if I don't make it back before my leave's over. So we've got some time." He sets his bag down by the coat closet. "When are we leaving?"

Denise laughs, startled. "Eager, aren't we?" She leads him further into the house, towards the living room. "We weren't planning on leaving for a couple more days, actually. Still haven't even packed yet; we didn't know if you'd be coming or not."

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, or even shake her with exasperation, Niall nods. "Alright, well, I'm here, so. We need to leave as soon as possible. I've only got seven days, and I don't know where I'm going."

They stop in the entrance of the living room, and find Theo and Greg sitting on the floor playing. Theo looks over to them, screaming in delight when he sees Niall. He scrambles up onto his little toddler legs, running over unsteadily.

"Niii!" He yells, barreling headfirst into Niall's knees. He groans exaggeratedly and falls over, bringing Theo down with him.

"Theo, lad! You're getting so strong, you've taken me down!" He laughs when Theo scrunches his nose up, giggling. "How are you?"

Theo nods seriously. "Good. Da boh' me a toy, an' is big, an' i' goes like this-" he runs around, arms extended, making airplane noises high in his throat. His accent startles Niall, just a bit, because it's loose in the way that Niall remembers his own being when he was younger.

Eyebrows raised, he nods. "Yeah? Why don't you get it, show it to me?"

"Okay!" Theo runs off, still giggling. "Is in my room!" He cried, voice muffled as he delves further into the house.

Niall turns to Greg. "Alright?"

Nodding, Greg sits up. "Been good, yeah. So did you, uh, you come to help?" He looks pained, asking.

Denise lowers herself onto the floor in the V of Greg's outstretched legs. "He said he will, love. Isn't that great? He's gonna help."

Greg pulls a face. "Finally doing something right, eh? Pulled your head out of your arse long enough to realize that your stupid Colonel isn't right about everything?"

"Greg," says Denise, sharp. She turns in his legs, giving him a wicked look.

"No, Denise," he snaps, standing. "You've barely taken any time out of your busy, mutant-killing life to visit your nephew for even a day, but now that we need your help you're leaping at the chance? How do we know you're not trying to turn him in without us knowing?" His voice never raises, only grows more and more angry as he speaks. His face grows red, blotchy on his cheeks. "How do we know there's not a firing squad right outside?"

"Niii!" Theo yells, running back into the room. He's holding a toy plane, the kind that the SFH fly around whenever they need to go far, fast. Niall didn't even know they made toys out of that stuff. He knows there've been toys, educational programs for children to learn that mutants are bad, but. He wasn't aware it went this far.

Theo plants himself in Niall's lap, interrupting his train of thought, and shoves the plane under his nose. "Look! Is like yours!"

Laughing weakly, Niall nods. Theo has no idea what that plane stands for. He can't believe Greg and Denise even bought it for him. "Does it go fast?" Theo nods happily. "Yeah? Why don't you show me?"

Laughing, Theo crawls out of Niall's lap, and stands in front of all three adults, as if he were about to give a performance. He tosses the toy into the air and Niall cringes, expecting it to fall flat, but instead it glides smoothly. A small gasp escapes his throat as the toy flies right in front of his face, and he finds he can't breathe.

"Oh my god," he whispers. Denise hums.

"Really something, isn't it?" She places a hand on his shoulder. "You see now why we need your help."

Almost as if it were an avalanche, all the stress from the past couple of days comes crashing down onto Niall. His breath shortens and he stands, looking for an escape from the room. He sees a door, stands and stumbles after it, ignoring the questions being thrown at him. He bursts into the room, not knowing what it is, and panics even more when he realizes it's a coat closet. The space is too small, the air stuffy and tight. Sliding down the wall, he puts his head between his knees the way his mam taught him.

 _Close your eyes, Niall. Keep your head down. Breath. In and out. In and out._ The voice of his mother floods his head, but for the first time in his memory, it doesn't work.

Harry is gone, and with him the barest amount of courage Niall ever had. His kill count is going up every day, so that the blood will never be washed from his hands. His own nephew is a mutant, making him question everything he knew. Thought he knew. He's betraying his team, his country. He's making the death of every mutant he's killed even more meaningless than it was in the first place.

_Breathe, Niall. Listen to me. Just breathe, slowly. Stay calm, keep your head down. Breathe._

He can hear Greg and Denise on the other side of the door, can hear Theo asking where he went, and he can't take it anymore. He tries to stand, vision going spotty, and promptly passes out.

*•*•*

"Thanks, Denise," Niall murmurs, taking the mug she's holding out to him. She smiles gently, sitting down beside him at the table. She looks concerned, has the same mam look he recognizes from his own childhood. "I'm fine, I promise. I was just - surprised, is all. Nothing wrong with that."

She laughs quietly, aware of Theo sleeping on the couch in the next room. "Should have seen Greg the first time Theo did that. I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd had a heart attack."

They sit in silence for a moment, both contemplating their own issues, when Denise speaks up again.

"So...are you going back? After you help Theo. Will you go back and - and keep. Doing _that_." Her eyes are burning up with the same kind of concern Niall has been on the receiving end of all his life. From his mam, from his da, from his team. Apparently he just can't get a break.

He shrugs. "I have no place else to go. I can't just - stay with you guys at the mutant place. I don't have a home other than my housing unit at the base. Wouldn't be able to work, because I'd be an outlaw. Not allowed to leave, you know, not until my tour's over." He shrugs again. "No two ways about it."

"And just how long is your tour, exactly? You've been doing this for how many years now? Three? How much longer can they keep you in the same spot?" She shakes her head.

Niall chuckles mirthlessly. "Four, actually. Finished training and started touring when I was eighteen, remember?" He shakes his head. "I only get promoted if I do something absolutely amazing, and I still have two more years."

The look on Denise's face strongly reminds Niall of Liam, with how protective and angry it is. "That's wrong. They start you off as murderers when you're just children, and then tell you that you won't ever be anything more? It's ridiculous, and not just because you're fighting for something so - so _meaningless_."

She shakes her head, sitting back. She looks towards the hallway that leads to the rooms, where Greg is packing their bags. She sighs. "I can't believe you even get drafted. What an outdated system. And - how do they even choose you in the first place? Do they just pick your name out of a hat?" She scoffs, but doesn't continue. Niall sips his tea.

Greg comes in, then, holding three bags. One of them is obviously for Theo, covered in baby ducks as it is. He sets the bags down by the couch, then sits down next to Denise. "All set, then. We just got to figure out where we're going."

Eyes narrowing, Niall sits back. "You don't know where this place is?" He snaps.

Greg rolls his eyes. "I've a general idea, mate, calm down." He steals some of Denise's tea. "Got some information off of an old friend; I just need to give them a call and we'll be off."

Niall shakes his head, running his hands down his face. "No, no, no. We need a plan. Like, a set plan with - with checkpoints and all that shite."

"Wow, Niall, now I really understand why you're a captain." Greg mutters. Niall ignores him.

"Listen, I don't know what you thought we were going to do, but we _do_ need an actual plan." Niall looks around the room, eyes landing on a whiteboard on the fridge. He reaches over, tilting back on his seat, and pulls it off. He starts sketching a quick layout, like he used to in strategy training.

"You're going to call this friend of yours, and then you need to tell me everything you know about this place," he says, meeting Greg's eyes. "Because we're leaving tonight."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, don't go all soft on me, Horan," Higgins laughs, without mirth. "You know that's not true. And even if it were, you've been killing mutants younger than him for years. You've got no right to suddenly grow a moral compass, especially when it's pointing in the wrong direction."
> 
> Shaking his head, Niall looks at Theo, playing with his toys and not realizing what's going on around him. "It was good talking to you, Colonel. I'll see you when I get back."
> 
> And he hangs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!!! I had almost finished the chapter when I accidentally deleted it so I had to rewrite it. Just a heads up, I changed a bit of chapter two, just to help with Niall's character development a bit, so you might want to go back and read it. Enjoy!
> 
> Look up the whwgo tag on fourgoddesses.tumblr.com for insight and very vague spoilers because I love getting ahead of myself!!!

**What Happened**

"So who do you think fucked up so bad to make everyone hate mutants so much, anyway?" Liam asks, checking his scope. He takes a shot at the target, hits it right on the bullseye. "Ha!"

Niall sighs, leaning against the barrier holding up the row of guns. "Dunno. In all honesty, it was probably some normal person who wanted to militarize mutants and was denied the ability. Like, maybe someone wanted to do something - something bad, you know, and was told no. Then took it out on anyone who was different."

Liam gives him a look. Niall's seen it so often by now that he's resorted to calling it the Look™, capitalization and trademark included. Thinks he could make a real fortune off it if he could bottle it up and sell it to mams everywhere. "Why is it," Liam asks, "that you take everything to some sort of, I don't know, some sort of philosophical level? Everything you say is just. So extra. Honestly, it's unnecessary."

Despite rolling his eyes, Niall can't help but laugh. "Shut up, Payne."

"Whatever, Horan," Liam answers. He nods at his gun. "Take your shot, then."

Replacing his baseball cap, Niall nods. "I'd be honored to, sir." He's right about to get ready when they hear footsteps approaching. He rolls his eyes again until he sees Liam scramble to attention. When he looks behind him, it's Higgins, followed by a sergeant, Leigh Anne.

"Attention!" He commands. Once they're in position, he nods. "At ease, soldiers. Lieutenant Horan, were you just about to take a shot?"

Niall nods. "Sir, yes, sir."

Higgins nods. "Go ahead then, lad, I can wait."

"Sir, yes, sir," he repeats, and checks his scope and his aim before doing so. His shot lands on the mark, better even than Liam's. He turns back around, standing straight.

"Nice work, Horan," the colonel says. Niall nods.

"At the risk of sounding disrespectful, sir, what are you doing here?" Niall asks, squinting against the sun. He doesn't need to look to know that Liam is giving him the Look™. He can't be assed to care.

"Ah, yes," Higgins turns to Leigh Anne behind him. "The letters, if you will." When Leigh Anne hands two envelopes to him, he hands one to each of the boys. Their names are in a fancy scrawl across the front, and Niall frowns.

"Niall James Horan. You know it's such a same your middle name isn't anything embarrassing," Liam, laughing, switches his with Niall's so they have the right ones. He ignores Higgins's gruff sigh.

They open the envelopes, Niall a lot less eagerly than Liam, to find two thick pieces of paper inside. One looks to be a formal invitation, while the other is a -

"Contract, sir?" Niall asks dubiously. Higgins grins as Niall reads on.

"Course! We're going to need your consent if we're to promote you at the induction ceremony." He nods back at Leigh Anne. "Pinnock over here got a letter as well; I'm trying to promote anyone who deserves it so I can start making more squads."

Leigh Anne grins at them brightly. Niall is happy for her, really, but. He's being promoted to captain. Captain? He doesn't deserve that.

Higgins sighs. "I know what you're thinking, Lieutenant, and you do deserve to be promoted. You've been one of the best soldiers here since you stepped foot on campus. You deserve this more than anyone."

Liam nudges his shoulder, beaming. "Congratulations, Horan."

Higgins pulls him aside gently. "I get it, Horan, it's a lot of responsibility, but you're ready for it. And, well, if you don't think so, then you don't sign the contract, and you don't get promoted. It's your choice."

Yeah, Niall thinks, because the SFH are all about _choices_. They _chose_ him to join this fecking army. They _chose_ him to be a lieutenant. They love _choices_.

He goes back to his housing unit without Liam, who stays behind with Leigh Anne to gloat about their new rank. Tries to really think about what he'd be subjecting himself to if he signed that contract. Sure, there are upsides. He would be given his own housing unit, which would be great. He would get more holiday time, more liberties. He'd be able to more and get in trouble less. And yet, if he does take the promotion, he'll have more responsibilities. He'll have an entire team to lead, for one. He'd work harder jobs than he does now, will have more riding on his shoulders. More will be expected of him.

And Niall is all about doing what's expected of him, isn't he. He didn't make a fuss when he was drafted because it was expected of him. He did well during training because it was expected of him. He took every promotion up until now because it was expected of him. Niall just doesn't do anything for himself much, lately. Hasn't wanted anything enough to fight for it. To fight against the odds and expectations to get it. In short, Niall's a feckin' baby about everything. A chicken.

So he signs the contract, and he sends it in before the due date, just to get it out of his mind.

*•*•*

The induction ceremony is dull and drags on for what seems like hours. He gets called up to the stage for his turn, and when Higgins pins the new colors onto his suit, he whispers, "We expect great things from you, Horan." Niall had to consciously keep himself from rolling his eyes right in the colonel's face.

Afterwards, while everyone is milling around eating or talking, Niall keeps himself on the edges, by the food so he looks busy. It's worked it so far, except for when Higgins approached him with a roster of names.

"Your new team," he'd grumbled. "I made good on your request for Payne, and the rest should be alright; they're all good soldiers, some of the best. That's all I can afford to stick with you, is the best. You'll do great, Captain."

Christ, was that conversation awkward. Higgins was obviously drunk, even though they'd only been a half hour into the dinner part of the night. But on the upside, Niall's team had been made of good people. Liam and Leigh Anne and Jesy, who all went through training with him and who he knew could have his back, even in the hard moments. They're all good eggs, it's true.

He's trying out a weird-looking cracker spread when Colonel Cowell sidles up next to him.

"You've been eating all night, lad," he laughs, rosy cheeked. "Can really pack it away, can't you? And congratulations on the promotion!"

Niall nods unenthusiastically, smile weak. He politely shoves the rest of the cracker in his mouth to avoid talking. Cowell doesn't seem to notice, or care, as he drones on about his own service, clearly drunk. He doesn't expect any response from Niall, it seems, since he doesn't ever give him a chance to give one. Eventually, the one-sided conversation takes a turn that makes Niall want to stop stuffing his face in an attempt to keep from talking.

"These mutants, they're all about taking everything we've got. They think these - these weird abnormalities are gifts, but anyone can see that it's just not true." He takes a hearty swig of his drink. "Monsters, is what we should call them. And those who sympathize with them are just as bad, what with all the noise they make on the Internet. Ridiculous, really. All they're doing is betraying their own country, and for what? Some lunatic with scales who doesn't care for them anyway." He stops a nearby waiter to grab a new glass and dispose of his empty one, and Niall just wants to sink into the floor.

Cowell turns to him, pointing a finger at him. "Don't ever let me hear that you've gone and betrayed your country, Horan, or I might have to kill you myself, and wouldn't the be a shame." He takes a sip of his drink and makes a face. "What in Christ's name is this? It's shit, is what it is - waiter!"

**What's Going On**

Niall leaves the house at around ten, his and Theo's things loaded into the boot of Denise's car. She insisted he take hers as it's in better condition; _can't take care of a car on his life, Greg_ , was her fond explanation. Niall doesn't care either way; as long as it can get him from here to Cork, he's fine.

Because that's where this bloody _safe place_ is. The southernmost tip of land all the way down in Cork, close enough to the beach, says Greg's mate, that the people there go all the time, if the weather allows.

And the worst part is that Niall's not just going straight on to Cork, oh no. He's stopping in every feckin' county on the way. Offaly and Laois and the like. All the way down, to avoid anyone following them or becoming suspicious. Which, in his opinion, is just as suspicious as just going straight on, because why would he be taking his nephew through four counties in the dead of night? Not to mention the fact that this way takes about three or four hours extra, without all the pit stops, whereas from Westmeath to Cork it's just a measly three hours. _And_ Niall will be stopping at a motel in Waterford to wait for Greg and Denise, who're leaving the house at midnight.

It'll take them maybe a whole day just to reach Cork, never mind the damn _safe place_. All this riding on the assumption that Greg's mate isn't just taking them for a joyride.

As he pulls out of the driveway, Denise gives a small wave, and Theo waves back, giggling, "Bye bye, mamma, bye bye!"

*•*•*

He drives for the better part of an hour that it takes to get to Offaly, stopping to fill the tank and buy himself an energy drink once. By the time they get into Laois, Theo's fallen asleep and Niall's still in his own head about what the fuck is he doing. It's not _nothing_ , what he's doing, and it'll affect him now matter what he does after this. He drops off the kid with his parents and goes back to the force; he'll have to live with the guilt of saving one mutant and killing every other one he comes across. He drops off the kid with his parents and stays with them at this place; he'll have deserted his post and, if he's even allowed inside the place, being the murderer that he is, he'll be totally out of place. The closest thing he has to a mutation is being able to sound exactly like whoever he wants, and that's not even something that came quick. He didn't even have SpongeBob's laugh down pat until he was six. He was the last one in his year, too.

The point is, he's screwed no matter what he does.

By the time they're just crossing into County Tipperary Theo's woken up, crying about needing a wee. Niall, who can relate, pulls into a Macca's and leads the tot inside. While they're there, he orders Theo a kid's meal and himself some nuggets and a shake. Might as well keep full on this trip, he thinks.

After they've eaten, and Niall's called Greg to let him know where they are, Theo runs around the playground for about a half hour until he tired out, then invites Niall to come in and be a king with him. Niall does, climbs into the plastic tubes that twist and turn confusingly until he reaches the source of Theo's babbling. He manages a whole six and a half minutes before he becomes too claustrophobic and makes his escape down the side.

They decide it's time to leave, and play mindless games in the car until Theo falls asleep and Niall's left alone again. He's not sure if he should turn on the radio, doesn't know if it'll wake up the kid. He does, in the end, plays a soft playlist on his phone he made exclusively for moments like this. Not moments where he's driving his mutant nephew to an illegal camp in the middle of the night, no. Moments where he's up at all hours and just needs something to help him stay calm. Of course.

They make it to the southern edge of Tipperary at maybe two in the morning, and he checks into the motel they had all agreed on. He gets a room with two beds, doesn't see the point in anything more if they'll only be there a day, and sends Greg a quick text to let him know. He still hasn't answered the first one, or let him know where they're at, but it's fine. Niall can chew him out and lecture him on the importance of communication when they arrive. Which would be rich, coming from him. Greg might even get a right laugh out of it.

Theo asks Niall to sleep in the bed with him, says the blankets will swallow him up if he don't, and Niall doesn't really need any convincing. He sometimes feel like the blankets will swallow him up, too.

*•*•*

The only thing that could ruin a perfectly fine morning is knowing that something is terribly wrong. Niall ignores the twist in his gut when he sees that Greg still hasn't texted or called, and neither has Denise. They should have reached the motel by now; they only left a couple hours after Niall and Theo and it's morning now. He sends a quick message to both of them, half reprimanding and half questioning, and sends Theo off to brush his teeth.

"I nee' my bag, Ni," he says, looking at him strangely. "Mam tole you all my stuff is my bag."

"Of course." Niall can't help but laugh. Theo's been an absolute trip since he started talking, thinks he's grown already. He drags the chair from the desk into the loo so that Theo can reach the sink, and listens to him intently as he babbles on about his morning routine. Half of it doesn't make sense, just kiddie nonsense about whatever comes to mind, but it's fun. Niall wouldn't mind having a kid, not if he's gonna be like this.

Well. Maybe not completely like this. Who knows what Niall would do if he had a mutant kid.

When they've both washed up, they head down to the small restaurant inside the motel. Still too small to sit in a chair normally, Theo kneels on his. He orders a big breakfast, and Niall watches fondly as he eats every last bit. Niall eats a big breakfast himself, not only because he's hungry but because he's trying to cover up the queasy feeling growing steadily in his gut. Something must've gone wrong.

He's proven right when they make it back to their room. The second he switches the telly on for Theo, a news broadcast interrupts whatever program was playing. Niall recognizes the news lady from the base back in London. She's the one who debriefs anyone who's just come back from a raid.

"In a strange development, two Irish civilians were tried just last night for the aiding and abetting of outlaw mutants. The young couple, Greg and Denise Horan -" and here a picture from their wedding day slowly comes into focus, floating by the news lady's head. Niall loses his breath. "- have been found guilty of assisting mutants to escape their legal punishment, and have been sentenced with the death penalty. Greg Horan's younger brother, SFH Captain Niall Horan, has not yet been reached for a statement. The whereabouts of their son, Theo Horan, are still unknown." Her face grows dark. "Let this serve as a warning to anyone out there who thinks that the mutants deserve our compassion. These two young children of Ireland thought that by helping the outlaws, the outlaws would help them, but no one did. We now return you to your regularly scheduled program."

Niall glances at Theo, who was too busy wrestling his toys from his bag to notice what was one the telly, and has to fight to keep his breath calm. And then his phone starts ringing.

It's Higgins.

*•*•*

"Yes?" Niall growls into the phone. He can hear Higgins sigh heavily.

"I take it you saw the newscast, then," he grunts. "Listen, I would have called you before they were sentenced, but it was one in the morning. I didn't want to trouble you."

Niall scoffs. "So you let me find out through some program directed by a heartless bitch who basically said they deserved it. That's so much better, Colonel, thank you so much."

"Remember who you're talking to," Higgins snaps. "Where are you? We need an official statement from you for the investigation, unless you want to be questioned and put under trial yourself."

Distancing himself from Theo, Niall turns towards the one window in the room. "You want a statement? Why don't you tell them that my brother was innocent, and that he didn't deserve to be killed any more than all the mutants we mindlessly execute on a daily basis. He and his wife, even if they _did_ help mutants, deserved better. They were good people, Higgins. They didn't do anything wrong."

Higgins sighs so loudly that the line goes crackly. "Their son, your nephew, is a mutant, Captain. They were not interested to in following the law; they were going to let him escape punishment. They deserved exactly what they got."

Niall takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. "With all due respect, Colonel, that's bullshit. Theo's just a baby; he can't hurt anyone, even if he wanted to."

"Oh, don't go all soft on me, Horan," Higgins laughs, without mirth. "You know that's not true. And even if it were, you've been killing mutants younger than him for years. You've got no right to suddenly grow a moral compass, especially when it's pointing in the wrong direction."

Shaking his head, Niall looks at Theo, playing with his toys and not realizing what's going on around him. "It was good talking to you, Colonel. I'll see you when I get back."

And he hangs up.

*•*•*

They leave right after that. They drive the last couple of hours through Tipperary and Waterford, and once they reach Cork, Niall pulls out the small paper map Greg's mate had given him. It's not a full map of Cork, just of the last stretch of land they'd have to go through to reach the camp, but he wants it out anyway. He needs a focus, a destination, otherwise he'll crack and break down. He still hasn't even let the information of his brother's death sink in. He's afraid of what will happen when it does.

He buys Theo some more food, stops once more for petrol, and then he's only a half hour away from the camp. He has to stop, just to breathe for even a second, so he pulls into a park and watches as Theo runs himself into a frenzy. Just sits there and listens to his mam's voice in his head telling him to breathe. Telling him to calm down and focus on one thing.

And he decides, in that moment, that Theo is his one focus now. He's the only one who the kid knows, the only one who the kid trusts. He might not be the only one who can take care of him, or the one who knows what's best for him, but if anyone can convince him to do what's right, it's Niall.

If nothing else, he knows that much.

*•*•*

The camp is hidden by a village, or fronts as one, Niall can't tell. But he drives through easily, with the odd rando giving him a funny look. He knows he looks a mess, but he didn't think it was that bad. Theo makes it better though, waving at everything that moves and endearing anyone who looks at them. The map says to just drive through the village, so he does, until he reaches a big iron gate that is being manned by two men in simple clothing. He stops the car right in front of them, doesn't let their stoic faces unease him. He's a soldier; he practically lives by these tactics.

"Hey, kid, I'm gonna step out for a mo, alri'? Just gonna go talk to them nice guys over there." He turns in his seat to look at him as he talks. Theo nods happily, and throws one of his toys up. It stays floating in midair, and Niall panics for a second, pulling it back down. "Don't do that right now, okay? We're gonna wait and show it to the guy in charge, yeah? He'll love it."

Theo, eyes wide, nods. "Okay!"

Niall, sighing, leaves the car running just in case of - whatever. He closes the door slowly, keeping an eye on the two guards. He approaches them carefully, hands loose by his sides to show he's unarmed. The guards just stare at him. Once he gets within a few feet, however, the one on the right, with electric blue eyes and messy hair, takes a lazy step forward.

"You're gonna wanna stop right there, mate," he says calmly. Niall realizes with a start that he's English. "State your business."

"Um," Niall fumbles through his pockets, turning up with the paper map again. The opposite side says a name. "Eoghan sent me, I guess." He frowns when the other boy rolls his eyes.

"You guess or you know?" He shifts his weight. "I haven't got all day, you know."

Niall's eyes narrow. "Looks to me like you're just standing by a fence, _mate_. Think you _have_ got all day." When the boy steps forward threateningly, Niall takes a half step back, hands up. "Alright. Eoghan sent me, I _know_. He gave me this, told me this place was safe for - anyone who needed it."

He holds out the map, and the boy at the gate snatches it out of his hand. He reads the scrawling handwritten note, then unfolds it and peers at the map. "Alright. You the mutant, then?"

Niall, startled at the casual way he says the word, stumbles over his words for a second. "N-no, um, it's my - my nephew. He's in the car, back there," he turns and points, sees Theo wave through the windshield. He waves back, then faces the two boys again. "His parents, my brother and sister-in-law, they were killed last night. For helping other mutants. They asked me to bring him here."

The boy with the blue eyes nods, and pockets the map. He holds out a hand. "Well then, I'm Louis. Welcome to the Compound."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want you to know that your decisions are yours, and they're for you. You may not be the only one who reaps the consequences, but in the end you either are or aren't proud of what you choose. You need to be able to hold your head up, no matter what anyone says, and pat yourself on the back when the time comes. Can you do that for me?"
> 
> He nods. "Course I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie, my posting schedule is nonexistent, therefore it is erratic. Soz
> 
> Anyway I feel like I need to mention that the fic title is from an episode of the walking dead season six...same name and all
> 
> Also! Comments are appreciated, so please feel free to write one. Yell at me and tell me my story sucks; I won't care cause I'm getting feedback!
> 
> and please check out the whwgo tag on my tumblr, fourgoddesses, for slight spoilers but also neat little explanations, I would like to think. It's a short tag it won't take very long
> 
> Enjoy!!!

**What Happened**

A bolt of lightning flashes, followed by the loudest peal of thunder yet tonight. The force of the boom shakes the house, and the lights flicker. Niall, standing still in the kitchen, loses his breath for a moment.

"Mam?" He calls worriedly. He looks around the kitchen as the lights buzz weirdly. _"Mam!"_

"I'm here, pet, I'm here," she says, walking into the kitchen. She laughs once she lays eyes on him, and he frowns petulantly. "Niall, what're you doing with that thing?"

Niall sets the butter knife down, brow furrowed. "Was scared, is all. I hate it when the lights go out like that."

Maura smiles fondly, wrapping her arms around him. He immediately calms down, and returns the embrace. "Love, the lights only ever go out for half a second; you won't ever get hurt." He pulls back to give her a pointed look as the lights continue to flicker. She sets her mouth in a line, amused. "Aren't you a bit old to be scared of a bit of lightning?"

He pulls back, nose scrunched up in distaste. "I'm fourteen, mam, I'm not old. I'm practically still a babe!" Reaching into a cupboard, he pulls out his favorite mug, one he made when he was just a kid, that's covered in shamrocks and footballs. It's evident that he painted it himself in the sloppy lines and mixed colors.

"What're you doing?" Maura laughs. He ignores her, pulling down all the other mugs and glasses he thinks hold a certain sentiment. When it becomes clear what he's doing, she sighs and comes up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. They tense for a second, but gradually relax as she speaks. "Love, the thunder can be frightening, I know, but it won't ever be bad enough to knock all the glasses down."

Niall turns to face her, holding the glasses from her and Bobby's wedding. "Glasses and mugs, mam. Glasses and mugs."

She snorts out a laugh, grabbing the glasses out of his hands and placing them back in the cupboard. Intertwining her hand with his, she pulls him into the living room, where they'd been watching a film. Pulling them onto the couch, she leaves it up to Niall to tuck the blanket back around them the way it'd been before he went to get a drink. She's just about to press play on the film when Niall speaks up.

"You're not mad because Greg didn't come, are you?" He murmurs.

She smiles at him. "Of course not, pet. He's grown now, been working his little bum off from what I hear. He doesn't have to come visit his ol' mam every other weekend unless he wants to. Not anymore."

Niall frowns, eyebrows pulling down. "I don't come just 'cause I have to, you know. I come 'cause I want to. It's - it's not fair that Da gets so much time with us."

Pulling a face, Maura laughs kindly. "Sweetheart, you're the one who chose to live with him." She continues before he can interrupt. "And I'm not trying to guilt trip you. I just mean that, you know, maybe you should have thought about that before."

He pushes himself further into the couch, head resting on her shoulder. "You went so far away, though. I wanted to stay at my school, didn't want to have to move away from all my friends. Da stayed in the old house."

"Well, to be fair, it _is_ his house," Maura laughs. When Niall makes a noise, she shushes him, one hand coming around his shoulder to pet at his hair. "Shush, you. I was only joking. Not trying to make you feel bad. I want you to know, Ni, that I'm not mad at you for choosing him. You had reason to, and I know it doesn't mean you love him more than me. I mean, look whose couch you're sat on right now. Not his. And it's his weekend."

Sniffing, Niall fixes his head so he can look up at her, head still on her shoulder. "So we're good?" He brings up a hand to swipe at his nose. "You're not mad at me?"

Pulling her chin in at an awkward angle to meet his gaze, Maura nods. "We're good. Wait, love, are - are you crying?"

Niall pulls away, swiping at his face in earnest now. "No, my eyes are just - they're sweating, I don't know." He sniffs, hard. He expects Maura to wrap her arm around him again, and when she doesn't he looks back at her. She's got a hand pressed over her mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter, but her eyes are shining. "Mam?"

"Oh, Niall," she laughs, finally wrapping her arms around him. He leans in to her touch, feeling instantly soothed as he always does. "You're not like your brother at all, are you. Or your father. They're both so stoic, so shut down with their emotions. You don't do that, do you? Not afraid to cry like they are." She sniffs, and rearranges them so they're facing each other. "Even if I were upset at you, I want you to know that your decisions are yours, and they're for you. You may not be the only one who reaps the consequences, but in the end you either are or aren't proud of what you choose. You need to be able to hold your head up, no matter what anyone says, and pat yourself on the back when the time comes. Can you do that for me?"

He nods. "Course I can."

Smiling, she nods. "Good lad. Now come on, I've been waiting on you to watch this one; all my friends have talking about it but I keep telling them, you know, I'm waiting for my boy. I know you love these films, don't think it's fair to watch them without you."

Niall leans back into her, feeling much better than when he'd first got there.

**What's Going On**

Louis opens the gate, tells Niall to drive through, and closes it behind him. He follows Louis as he jogs through the camp and leads him to an area where a handful of other cars are parked, along with some trucks and vans. He shows Niall where to park, and tells him to leave their stuff in the boot until he's given a place to stay. Niall unstraps Theo from his seat, and considers putting him on the ground before seeing just how muddy the ground is. He keeps Theo on his hip.

Louis leads them through the camp, and it seems like a normal village. He explains that, because of the time, most people are either at work or at school, that it's all right there in the camp or in the village outside the gate. Houses are set up on a small maze of streets, and when they pass a lonely intersection, Niall catches a glimpse of the ocean. The sky is bright today, sun out fully on a rare clear day. Not a cloud in sight. He doesn't say anything as he follows Louis, and Louis doesn't either. Even Theo keeps quiet, head resting on Niall's shoulder peacefully.

They reach the end of the street, the one Niall assumes to be the main street. At the end is a large house, a mansion more like. Its walls are smooth, painted a faded light green with white lining. White pillars line the front steps, which lead to two oak doors. Windows stretch in each direction, going up three floors. The veranda wraps around the house, and Niall can see that all three floors have one. Louis leads him up the steps, and points to a plaque above the doors. It reads _Town Hall_. Niall can't help but arch a brow.

"This," Louis says, "is where we conduct business from. Anything related to the government or our people is dealt with on the ground floor. The infirmary and school are here as well." He makes to open the door, but turns back. "Um, when you meet everyone, make sure you specify the situation. They'll most likely automatically assume that you're the mutant, so. Just saying. Don't wait for them to ask, just go ahead and say it." He turns to the doors, but doubles back once more. "Actually, just leave it up to me. They'll listen to me."

Niall raises a skeptical brow. "Anything else?"

Louis fixes him with a stare. "Your fly is down." He bursts into laughter when Niall's hand shoots down to his crotch, cackling loudly. "Quite gullible, aren't you?" He opens the doors, finally, and doesn't look back to see if Niall's following.

"Twat," he mutters, and steps inside.

The doors open into a grand hall, and Niall gapes, stunned. They've stepped into a large square room, with marble floors, a high ceiling, and a staircase to the right leading upstairs, and what seems to be a lower level. Directly in front of them, past the initial entrance, is a short hall, with doors lining each side and another, smaller staircase at the end. The hall ends in a glass door that leads outside.

To the left of them is a room with a glass wall, and inside the room is a table full of people. It looks like an average conference room, and Louis heads right to the door and let's himself in. Niall hangs back, until he sees Louis nod him forward. He notices everyone in the room looking at him through the wall, all except one person with shaggy blonde hair, whose head is bent forward as they scribble something down. Louis pushes him inside the room when he hovers in the doorway.

"Everyone, this is, um, I didn't exactly catch your name, mate." He peers at Niall with his sharp blue eyes.

Swallowing hard, Niall adjusts Theo on his hip. "Um, it's Niall. Niall Horan, and this is Theo -"

His gaze is drawn to a flurry of movement from the one person still not looking at them, and he falters. Niall stares at them, and they stare right back, startled. He gasps out a sharp breath, and Theo looks up, smiling widely.

"Granny!"

*•*•*

Three things happen once Niall realizes that his mam is the one staring at him; one, he sets a squirming Theo down so he can run at her, two, he himself practically runs out of the house, and three, he bursts into tears, finally breaking down and letting all his stamped down emotions flood to the surface.

He ends up on the veranda, leaning onto the railing with one hand and covering his mouth with the other as his vision blurs. Choking down ugly sobs, he tries his hardest to stifle them back down. He rests his head on his hand, bending over.

His mam. _His mam._ Who knows how long she's been here for. And every time Niall has sent a letter to her house, expecting a response no matter how many had gone without one before. Christ, he feels like such a twat. Has his mam been a mutant this whole time? Just - letting him kill her kind while hiding out in the middle of nowhere? Which is saying a lot for Ireland, seeing as most of it is fecking farmland. Can't even get signal on half this damn island.

Niall realizes then, as he feels a hand on his back and instantly calms down, that his mam didn't have the traditional magical touch of mams everywhere. She had a _literal_ magical touch.

He jerks away as though he's been stung. "Fuck," he gasps, tears flooding his eyes once more.

"Watch your mouth," Maura reprimands gently. "Theo's here."

"Fook!" Theo shrieks, just to prove her right. Maura shushes him, startled into laughter. Niall can't find it in himself to turn around.

"How long," he rasps, one hand dragging down his face and the other resting on his hip. "How long, mam?"

Maura laughs, confused. "All my life, really, this isn't something that just happens -"

"How long have you been _here_ , Maura?" he snaps, whirling around to face her. "How long have I been sending letters to an empty house, eh?" He waves a hand around, pointing in a random direction at a house that isn't there. "How long have I been waiting for just one answer, just one -" he breaks off, overcome with emotion. He shakes his head and whispers, "Greg's dead, mam."

She reels back as if he's hit her. "What?" she gasps. "Since - since when? How?"

Niall runs a hand down his face. "He and Denise were tried and executed last night for aiding and abetting outlaw mutants. I'm - I'm not sure if Da knows, or. Well, he must by now, yeah, it was on the morning news, wasn't it?"

Maura holds a hand out, the one not holding onto Theo, as though to reach for him. Niall flinches, and she retracts it, eyes shimmering. "Oh, lad. I've been here since after you were drafted."

"Oh my god," Niall groans. He's been writing to her for over half a decade, waiting for an answer. And all the while she's been here. "I can't believe -" he runs his hands through his hair, tugging slightly, and exhales heavily. He laughs, and it's not forced, or strained. It just sounds a tad hysterical. "I need to go." He walks along the veranda to the stairs, starts to climb down them when Maura calls after him.

"Niall James Horan, you come back here right now. You cannot tell me that my son has died and expect to just walk away." She says forcefully, but he shakes his head and keeps walking, planning on going back to the car. "Niall!" And of course her voice is going to break here, isn't it, so of course Niall's going to stop. Stop and turn back around and slowly make his way up the steps again, make his way into his mam's waiting arms. Well, her one waiting arm.

*•*•*

Niall is much calmer when Maura leads them back inside to the conference room. All the people who'd been there before stand up when they enter, and he averts his eyes, embarrassed at his breakdown, and sits in the seat by her when it's offered to him. Everyone else sits back down.

A big man, sitting at the head of the table, leans forward. "Hi. I'm Niall Breslin, but everyone calls me Bressie, so. It's probably for a good reason now, eh, now that we've got another Niall." He grins softly and Niall can't help but smile back, nodding. "Welcome to the Compound, I guess. It's an awful name, I know, but it took so long for us to come up with a real one that we stuck with it. Mind, uh, telling us about yourself and your kid?"

Niall clears his throat awkwardly. "Actually, um. He's just my nephew. His da, my brother, he was killed last night. Him and his wife, for helping mutants escape federal punishment or some shite like that. I just got the news this morning." He wipes a hand under his nose. "I was supposed to help them get Theo here, because Theo's, well. You know. He's a mutant."

Bressie nods, looking intrigued. "Why did they ask for your help? Are you -?"

"No, no," Niall shakes his head quickly. He swallows hard. "I'm - I'm SFH, actually."

At this, Louis jumps out of his seat, yelling, _"What?"_ and an invisible force physically pulls Niall out of his chair and against the wall. Maura cries out, but as she strains against her seat, Niall realizes that whatever is pushing him is holding her to her chair. He gasps as the force presses in on his chest, and his gaze clashes with Louis's, whose eyes are bright with anger.

"Louis, stop!" Bressie yells. Everyone else is watching quietly, eyes wide and bouncing between Louis and both Nialls. "Tomlinson, let him go now!" And as Niall watches, Bressie slowly grows in size until he's twice as big as before, crouching so his head doesn't hit the ceiling.

Louis glances at Bressie quickly, then does a double take as he realizes how big Bressie has grown. Niall is still choking against whatever is holding him against the wall. Suddenly, as Louis flexes his jaw and lets his body relax from its tense state, the force disappears and Niall falls to the ground, rubbing his chest and coughing.

Maura runs to him, leaving Theo on the table where he'd been sitting, and pulls him up. While her touch calms his crazy state of mind, her eyes flash with anger. "You lay one more finger on my son," she growls, "physical or not, and I will personally make sure you're never comfortable in your own skin ever again. I could literally make you go insane, you insufferable -"

Bressie, back to his normal size, holds out a hand. "Maura. That's enough. Now," he says, as everyone sits back down. "I understand why that might upset you, believe me, but you should know better than to lose control like that. Once more and I will send you back to your post. Is that clear?"

Louis nods, and Bressie turns to everyone else. "That stands for all do you. One more outburst from anyone and I will be speaking to Niall alone." He sits back down, exchanging an exasperated glance with the young girl sitting next to him. He nods at Niall. "Continue."

Coughing, Niall does. "I was drafted, you know, standard age, and I - um. I've moved up through ranks quite quickly, so I know how to avoid being detected by the government. Greg and his wife, Theo's parents, they asked me to help get him here without anyone noticing. Obviously, it didn't work out so well. Otherwise they'd be here instead of me."

Louis scoffs. "So what, you would save the kid because he's family but no one else? That's fucked up mate."

He clenches his jaw and shifts in his seat when he notices Bressie grow a few inches. Niall can't help but snort.

"Yeah, I know, trust me," he nods. "But I thought it'd be better to draw attention away from them by returning to my own post when I finished helping them. I'll be charged with desertion now; the SFH will be looking for me at all costs. They're already looking for another former member of my team who's deserted."

Rolling his eyes, Louis looks away. Fine, Niall thinks. He meets Bressie's gaze. "I'm not leaving, though. Not now. I can't just - leave Theo alone. No offense, mam." He adds, glancing at her. She quirks a brow.

"You do realize I raised two boys? I could handle another one," she says, sitting Theo down again from where he'd stood on the table. "You've got no reason to stay now; no one will blame you if you go back."

Niall rubs his hands down his face roughly. "I know," he says, muffled by his hands. He pulls them away, starts to bite on his nails. Maura smacks his hand down. "I just. I can't do it anymore. The - the killing, and all that. It's not like I enjoyed it before and was hit with reality; I _never_ liked doing it. But I never had a reason to leave, before. I - I couldn't leave, for one, not until my tour was up, and it's not like I had anywhere to go. My da and I, we're not close enough for me to quit my day job and move in with him until I'm settled. My brother and I could barely tolerate each other. I thought my mam hated me, or had died and I just never found out." He shakes his head. "I had no reason to leave. Nothing solid enough to convince me to become an outlaw. But now? Now I've got Theo to think of. So. So, if you'll have me, I would like to stay. For him." He clears his throat, feeling a bit embarrassed for rambling on.

Bressie stares at him, unflinching. Niall, used to this from his commanding officers back at base, stares back. They barely blink, and the air in the room grows tense as everyone around them wonders what's going to happen. Then, as if he understood the tension, Theo pokes Niall's shoulder.

"Is he teh boss, Ni?" He asks curiously. Niall breaks his gaze away from Bressie and nods.

"Yeah, lad, he is." Biting his lip, Niall looks at the toys in Theo's hands. "Wanna show him your trick?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Theo stands on his stubbly legs. Maura tries to pull him back down, but he wriggles out of her grip and toddles across the table towards Bressie. The big man practically melts when the baby squeaks out a, "Hi, boss." Theo hands him one of his toys. "Wash."

And he starts playing with his own toy, without touching it. He makes it interact with the one in Bressie's hand and, startled, Bressie plays with him. He laughs as Theo makes his toy fly around the room on its plastic wings, and slowly the tension dissipates from the room as everyone looks on in wonder.

"Well," says the girl next to Bressie (English, too, like Louis), smiling. "I think we all can agree that you'll be staying."

*•*•*

"So how does Theo know who his granny is, then?" Niall asks curiously, hands in his pockets as they walk around the camp. It's more lively now, people taking breaks from their daily lives to eat or just relax in the bright sun, and they've left Theo in the care of one of the blondes from the meeting. He glances at Maura.

She winces. "Um, I may have visited Greg a few times a year. We would go back to the old house, and we'd catch up. I got all your letters, by the way." She tacks on the last bit hopefully, and Niall scoffs.

"Wow," he mutters. He stops, hand rubbing across his forehead. Maura stops a few paces ahead of him. "All this time I - you never answered them! And - and I haven't had a leave of absence at all since I was drafted, _because_ you never answered! I - I thought maybe you hated me, or - or thought that I'd changed, or. I was terrified, mam, I was alone in that godforsaken base and you let me stay that way. Why?"

Maura shakes her head, taking a step towards him. Her expression falls when he takes a matching step back. "I had to, pet." Niall scoffs, disbelieving. "I did, Niall, you don't understand. I -"

"You're right, mam, I don't. So just - leave it be, yeah?" He takes a few steps backwards. "I'm gonna go find Theo, see if he's enjoying himself."

Niall ignores her as he walks off, not in the mood. He doesn't know where he's going, just knows that he needs to go away from there. He finds himself retracing his steps to his car, and sits on the hood heavily.

What a day it's been. He'd been aware that he would be surrounded by mutants, but he didn't realize just how many there'd be. Bressie, who'd given him a small introduction before letting Maura give him a tour, had explained that there's about one hundred and fifty mutants, with only about ten normal people. Niall's never felt so out of his depth. He watches as an old man turns to into a rock while running away from Niall presumes is his grandson, watches as the kid climbs on the rock. The old man turns back quickly and catches the boy in his arms, then throws him up high. Niall laughs quietly.

A familiar metallic groan rings out, and when Niall glances over it's the gate opening once more. He halfheartedly listens in on the aimless chatter Louis has with whoever's coming in as he continues watching the old man. Something about a medical run for a girl named Jade, and something else he can't make out. He can tell it's snippy, from the resulting laugh that comes from the person coming in. The laugh makes Niall go cold in his seat. He turns his head slowly, dreading the view he's soon to get, and lets out a shaky breath when he's proven right.

Niall stands up before he even realizes what he's doing, striding over quickly. This is the second time today someone unexpected has shown up in this stupid camp, but this time it's not a happy reunion so much as an angered one. He makes it over in a few paces, and the boy turns to face Niall as he finishes speaking with Louis. He stops in his tracks when he sees Niall standing in front of him.

"N-Niall?" Harry asks, green eyes wide like perfect circles and mouth hanging open. He looks shocked. Niall can't find it in himself to care.

He punches Harry square across the face.

*•*•*

In retrospect, it wasn't the _best_ decision. Niall realizes it, thank you very much. But the anger was so much, so quick, and he's already been through so much today. This surprise just tipped him over the edge. At least he made sure not to break anything. He could've broken Harry's face if he really wanted to. He's had sufficient training. In fact, he and Liam have probably broken some part of each other's faces at least twice.

Speaking of Harry, he's bent over in half, clutching his nose as blood comes pouring out. "Shit, Niall, what the fuck? What'd you do that for?" He groans. Niall takes a half step back, breathing heavily.

"For deserting your post, Sergeant," he spits. "And leaving me a stupid bloody note as an explanation." He takes another step back as people come rushing towards them, confused chatter growing loud. Niall glances around, sees his mam looking over the heads of others, worried. He holds out a hand. "Come on, I'll take you to the infirmary."

Reluctantly, Harry takes his hand and let's Niall lead them back to Town Hall. Maura had let him know that the infirmary was on the second floor, while the school was on the third. Harry tries to get a better grip on Niall's hand, to intertwine their fingers, but Niall just grips his wrist instead. "Tip your head forward, ya lug, are you trying to drown in your own blood?" He shakes his head. "Thought you were a trained paramedic."

When they make it to the infirmary, (which does indeed take up the entire second floor, with dozens of beds and curtains lined up around them) the girl who'd been sat by Bressie during the meeting is there, and she gasps loudly when she sees the blood on Harry's face. Her hair is brown at the roots, but seems to grow out silver. She must dye her hair, thinks Niall. Like me. He reads her medical coat and sees Thirlwall sown across the breast in a fancy, swirly script.

"What the bloody hell happened to you, Harry?" She asks, moving some things off a table to he can sit. "I sent you to get some meds, not to get beaten up. Hi, Niall, are you enjoying yourself so far?"

Harry holds out the hand not holding his nose, which carries three plastic bags. Thirlwall tuts.

"Cannot believe. What happened?"

"Um," Harry's voice is clogged. He looks at Niall. "I fell. On my face."

Niall snorts.

Thirlwall looks between them suspiciously. "Really?"

Crossing his arms, Niall sits in the chair by the table. "I punched him. Figured he deserved it after what he did."

Harry and Thirlwall have a conversation through their expressions, and she gasps again. "Oh! Is he...?" Harry nods. "See, he _said_ he was from the SFH, but I didn't think anything of it. Wow." She giggles prettily. "Small world. First he finds his mum here, and now here you are. Who's next, I wonder?"

Brows furrowed, Harry looks at Niall as Thirlwall begins cleaning up his face. "Mum?" He doesn't wait for an answer when his face lights up in recognition. "Let me guess; it's Maura Gallagher isn't it? You've the same face."

Niall pulls a face, then stands. "I'm leaving. I'd say sorry, you know, but I'm not. I'll see you around."

Thirlwall laughs. "Um, no. I need to fix your hand; it's bruising pretty badly already." She gestures at his fist, which is in fact already growing a bit pink. Sighing, Niall sits back down and waits his turn. She glances at him while snapping on some gloves. "I'm Jade, by the way." And oh, so this is who Harry was headed to. "Head of medical, and also Bressie's second in command. I was in med school before all this, believe it or not. But then I got found out, and. Well. Rest is history, as they say." And she calmly places her hands on either side of Harry's nose. That's all she does, is place her hands there, but the pained expression fades from Harry's face and the slow trickle of blood stops. Niall watches on, mouth hanging open slightly in awe.

"You're a healer, then?" He asks. "You, you heal people."

Jade smiles brightly. "Indeed I do. There's one other thing, but it's quite useless right now, so. I'll show you tonight, don't worry." She moves to stand in front of him, gesturing for his hand. "Southpaw, are you? Those're definitely the best in a fight, not going to lie." Placing her thumbs over his bruised knuckles, she lets out a deep breath. The dull pain that had been growing steadily slowly eases, until it stops altogether, and the color drains out of his hand. She continues talking without missing a beat. "Harry here is my assistant. We're the only ones with medical experience. With all the people here you'd think _someone_ has to be like me, but no." She pulls away, ripping off her gloves and tossing them in the trash. Exhaling sharply, she leans against the table Harry's sitting on and smiles.

Niall can't help but laugh, somewhat overwhelmed with her easy and aimless chatter. "Um, do you think you could do that to my knee?"

Frowning, Harry leans forward. "Still bothering you? I thought they'd fixed that."

Briefly, Niall contemplates ignoring him, but he doesn't. "My knee always bothers me; told you a long time ago."

Jade hums, brows furrowed. "You've had corrective surgery on it?" Niall nods and she tuts. "Can't do anything, I'm afraid. I can only work on a clean canvass, that's what I always say. Not by choice, though, trust me." She smiles kindly. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Harry and I have some inventory that we need to get settled. I'm going to have to ask you leave."

Harry rolls eyes his. "Don't lie; you just want to talk about him while he's gone."

With an affronted gasp, Jade places a hand over her heart. "I would never!" But she winks, and heads off to the back of the room. "Really, though, love, you do need to go."

*•*•*

The sun falls quickly after that, the day seeming shorter than it is with the boatload of information Maura gives him about the compound. Turns out Bressie started it up when he was just a kid, even though it was more of an idea than anything then. He'd been on the run when he found the village right outside the fence, and they quickly opened their arms to him. Place ended up being full of mutant sympathizers, with a bunch of other mutants hidden with them. It was a farming community, with tons of land, so Bressie made an exchange with them. If the villagers offer protection to them, any mutants who comes through will do any the farm work that needs to be done, or anything else. Everyone seemed to heartily agree, even the mutants, and so the agreement was settled. Word spread quickly of a village in Cork that harbored outlaws, and soon there were more mutants than the farms needed necessarily, than could fit in the village. So Bressie came up with the brilliant idea of using some of the empty land to build houses for anyone who sought refuge. And, as the people here seem to be fond of saying, the rest was history.

They eat lunch with Theo, sitting on the grass by the gate closest to the beach. Niall ends up apologizing to his mam, even though she refuses to accept it. Says he's just processing a lot, that it's perfectly normal. Doesn't mean he won't feel guilty about it. When it comes time for bed, Niall asks her where her place is.

"Oh, love," she sucks on her teeth, disappointed. "I've not got the space for you two. Can barely fit meself into the space, damn room is so small." She grabs onto his hand. "We'll talk to Bressie, don't worry."

And off they go, back to town hall, where Bressie is speaking with Jade in the entrance hall, Jade who is still in her doctors' coat. He turns to them with a startled smile when he sees them coming. "Was just talking about you, chief. And you, little chief." He chucks Theo under the chin. Meeting Niall's eyes, he nods. "How's it looking; you settling in alright, so far?"

Niall nods. "Yeah, mate, thanks. For like, everything though, not just. That." He rolls his eyes at himself mentally because _what the actual fuck._ "We're good."

Bressie grins. "Heard you punched Styles." He laughs when Niall's cheeks go red. "No worries, chief, it's fine. I mean, we don't condone violence, at all, but Jade here explained it to me and it's fine. Just the once, yeah, to let off some steam." His mouth draws into a straight line, though his eyes are still amused. "Don't go hitting people anymore, alright?" Niall nods. "Now, about your housing situation. We've been running tight on space as of late, but we're working on it, so you might get your own little flat eventually, but for now you'll be sharing with someone. You and the little tyke, of course."

Shrugging, Niall adjusts Theo on his hip. Their bags are piled around their feet; he feels kind of ridiculous. "It's fine. I'll take what I can get."

Jade smiles. "Sweet of you. We know you've been through a lot, and your mum told us about your anxiety issue -" she says it so clean, the way a doctor should, but Niall still blushes again and cuts a glance at his mam, who just shrugs "- so we've decided to set you up with one of our calmer residents. He's the head of the recreational department, does arts and crafts and music and stuff, and we were thinking you might be able to help him out, what with your guitar. It's optional, of course, but you are going to have to pull your weight around here somehow. Anyway, listen to me ramble, is he here, Brez? I told him to meet us at eight; he's a half hour before its nine," and she continues mumbling quietly with Bressie, doesn't notice a dark skinned boy climbing down the stairs at the end of the hall. He's got a regular black t shirt on, and so his heavily tattooed arms are exposed. Niall feels as though his gut's been punched in.

The boy is effortlessly beautiful, and Niall finds himself hoping no one here is telepathic because he's suddenly reminded of what he and Harry used to do (even though he would never admit to anyone, barely admits it to himself sometimes), finds himself wanting to do it with this boy. He's got big brown eyes and raven black hair that's shorn on the sides but swept up at the top, and his jawline is...Niall's never been one to hone in on individual features like this, never understood why one would nitpick when the picture as a whole is always so stunning, but his jawline. It's sharp, yet the light fuzz that covers it - the kind Niall has not yet been able to grow - makes it look softer, and the boy's body is just. Pleasing to the eye, there's no other way to put it. Like a sculpture from the Renaissance, only on an actual human being. And he said it before, but Niall can't stop looking at those _eyes_ , those big brown eyes that are looking at - him, actually. With a plump pink mouth that's - it's moving, which means talking, and now everyone is looking at him, and wow has Niall ever been more embarrassed over something so wrong.

He clears his throat, his face feeling hot enough to boil something, and shifts his weight again. "I'm sorry, what?"

The boy smiles, smirks more like, and gives a small shake of his head.

"I said I'm Zayn."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaking his head still, Zayn makes his way through the mess of art supplies strewn about and throws himself onto the couch. "Dunno, I just. I've never spoken this much, to anyone I've just met. I keep to myself, see. Barely speak to anyone other than the kids and like, three adults here. And yet with you I'm just gabbing away." He makes a talking motion with his hand, waving grandly. "S'weird, is all."
> 
> "No offense, but. You should probably be used to weird. You can shoot rainbows out of your fingers." Niall answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii sorry for taking so long but im pretty sure this is the longest chapter so far so hopefully that makes up for it !!!
> 
> Also there's smut and it's the first ive ever written so please be honest and let me know if it sucks but also please be gentle because it's hate sex and everyone loves hate sex amirite
> 
> ps jerrie is real™

**What Happened**

Niall is fifteen years old when he kisses his first boy. His name is Craig, and he's bigger than Niall, which isn't really all that hard to accomplish anyway. He's on the footy team, and everyday after school, when he practices, Niall sits on the bleachers and watches while he pretends to do homework. Craig knows, waves at him when they spot each other, and talks to him when the team gets a water break. Sometimes he'll even sit close enough to Niall that their legs touch, and even if Craig is all sweaty and dirty and grass-stained, Niall likes it too much to move his leg away.

After three months of this, Niall finally works up the courage to ask Craig over to his house. They don't spend time together outside of practice, since they don't have classes together or any mutual friends. They don't even have the same lunch period. Despite all this, Niall's grown a bit of a crush. And he wants to know, needs to know, if Craig feels the same way. So he invites him to his to play video games and to watch the football and whatnot, the usual laddy stuff. Maybe he'll even ask him about his feelings for Niall, who knows. He might've spent up all his courage in one go.

Greg and Bobby are at work when they get to Niall's after the practice. They both work late nights, late enough that Craig could be there until ten and there'd still be a possibility of them not being home for a few more hours. Niall feels bad, taking advantage, but at least he won't be alone all day.

They eat, both ravenous although for different reasons (Niall is anxious and always hungry anyway, and Craig is still coming down from footy). After that, Craig mentions that if he doesn't get his homework done before his mam picks him up he'll be dead, so they do that. Craig asks Niall for help with his maths, and Niall asks for help with his chemistry, even though neither of them really need it.

(Niall's not daft, he knows that's what you do when you like someone. You pretend to need help with something you don't really need help with, if only for an excuse to stare at them raptly as they talk without seeming weird. He's seen plenty of movies; he knows how this goes.)

It's when Niall looks up at Craig from his maths sheet that he notices he's not the only one who stares.

Craig has these amazing green eyes, everyone knows it. The girls talk about it when he passes by in the halls, and the guys tease him and ask to borrow them so they can chat up girls. Niall's just never been this close to them. He's never had the chance to really admire Craig's eyes, not like this. So he takes advantage, and he does. And Craig stares straight back at him, and Niall thinks he should be feeling uncomfortable, but all he really feels is a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.

It's when Craig leans in that Niall starts to feel nervous in a bad way. His breath hitches when Craig is only a few centimeters away, and his eyes slam shut. He can feel Craig's breath against his lips when he whispers, "Is this alright? I can stop if you want."

And Niall's heart could just...stop beating for half a mo, maybe. How do those metaphors work again?

He shakes his head. "N-no, I want it. If - if you want it," he whispers back.

So Craig leans in.

They kiss for the better part of an hour, still sitting on the floor at the coffee table the entire time. Craig ends up half on top of him, elbows bent near Niall's head to support himself, Niall with his hands tangled in Craig's hair. He's never kissed anyone like this before. There was Susan, in first year, but that doesn't count because it was a dare that she got while on a school field trip. There's his mam, but that doesn't count for obvious reasons. There was Aoife, who was just a few months ago actually, and although she does count, it was your average curious kiss that happens at parties when it's what everyone is doing and you don't want to be left out. They ended up leaving together and going to a Macca's, where he found out that she didn't really like kissing anyone, even if they are particularly good at it. He bought her an extra kids' meal toy as a thank-you-for-talking-about-something-personal-with-me gift.

But never like this, with a flush crawling down his chest or tug in his gut. With soft brown hair twisting between his fingers as he tugs. With a curious need to _move_ , even if he's not sure where or why or how. He's only ever seen kisses that look like they feel like this in the movies, never even seen it in real life.

Craig is a good kisser, Niall decides.

Gasping out a breath, Niall uses his grip on Craig's hair to pull him away. The other boy stares down at him, mouth open and red. Niall can't help but laugh giddily.

"I'm - I'm not even gay." He mumbles. Craig smirks.

"Course you aren't."

It becomes a normal thing, after that. They wave shyly in the halls as they pass each other, and talk as they normally do during footy practice. But after all that, when they're at either of their houses, all they do is snog. Sometimes they manage to get homework done, sometimes they talk about whatever comes to mind. But mostly they snog. They never take it further, even though they both tend to stop each other periodically to run to the loo and calm down. Niall doesn't know if he's ready for that, or if Craig even wants to. They never talk about it.

Then, one day, Craig's da catches them.

 _He wasn't supposed to be home_ , is what Craig cries to him when it's all done. _He's never home before nine on weekdays. There wasn't supposed to be anyone at home._

Niall rushes home with a bruised lip and leaves Craig with a busted nose. He's scared when he leaves the house, not only for himself but for Craig. He knows that what happens behind closed doors isn't something that gets shared too often in the dear ol' Gar, but he knows that it's usually never good. Niall worries that Craig won't even make it to school tomorrow, what with the way his da was screaming at them.

He's proven wrong when he sits down in his usual spot on the bleachers somewhat hesitantly. Craig is there, not limping or with anymore bandages than the one on his nose which, according to the rumors that reached Niall, happened when he was practicing footy alone. When one of Craig's friends points Niall out to him, as is the usual, Niall waves shyly, hand barely making it halfway. Craig just looks away and runs off.

When the practice - during which Craig never headed over to him during the break - Niall is fully ready to apologize and offer his own house up as a permanent location for after school antics. But Craig climbs the bleachers slowly, defeatedly, and quietly explains that they can't be friends anymore, his da won't allow it. Can't have a bent son and all that.

Niall takes it quite well, he'd like to think. He nods stiffly and makes sure to apologize to Craig, because that's what his mam taught him, was to apologize when you feel bad for someone and have got nothing else to say. They say goodbye, Craig hugging him tightly one last time while whispering _I'm so sorry but I really did like you_ in his ear, and Niall doesn't cry until he gets home. He does it openly, sat right on the living room floor, because no one is home to see it anyway. And when the weekend comes, Niall heads to his mam's, because she can always help in a crisis.

He gets drafted that same day.

**What's Going On**

Zayn is, quite possibly, the most beautiful person Niall has ever seen, save his mam. And it seems incredibly effortless, in the way he holds himself. As if he doesn't know that he's a modern day Adonis. Niall is entranced even by the back of his head, which is all he can stare at as he follows Zayn to his flat.

"So you - you live alone?" Niall asks as Zayn lets them into his small flat, and duh, that is why he and Theo are being roomed here. Geez.

Zayn barely blinks, looking back over his shoulder as he pushes open the door. "Yeah, I'm one of the lucky ones. We've been running out of space for lodging; I'm one of the few who doesn't have a roommate. Or, well, didn't have a roommate."

Niall bites his lip, struggling to drag all his and Theo's bags in, while not dropping a sleeping Theo off his shoulder. "Sorry about that. I wanted to room with me mam, for obvious reasons, you know, but she said she has no room."

Shrugging, Zayn grabs the bags off Niall hands and sets them on the couch. "No big. I've seen Maura's place, and it really is tiny. Can barely fit even a mattress in there; don't know how she does it."

Niall's eyebrows bounce, almost without him noticing. "Been wondering that my whole life." He looks around the small living room, sees the mess of canvases and easels and sketchbooks and art supplies strewn about. Sees the walls covered in graffiti and other kinds of art. His eyebrows go up, and stay there this time. "Now I get why you're head of the arts department."

Smiling crookedly, Zayn fumbles around trying to clean up. He fails, mostly. "Eh, supposed to be the entire recreational department, but. I'm really into art, so." He runs a hand through his hair. "Um, I've got some stuff in the spare room, so I'll just get that out and then you and Theo can move in. Properly, like."

Nodding, Niall finds an empty chair and sits, growing tired with Theo in his arms. "Take your time."

Zayn clears out the room rather quickly, and when Niall heads in to put Theo down, he sees yet more art on the walls. It's all very intricate, something Niall himself could never do, and he wonders if it's something to do with his mutation. If he's even a mutant. There's only one bed, but Theo had insisted on Niall sleeping with him before so surely he won't mind it again. When Niall brings their bags into the room, Zayn winces.

"Uh, I haven't got any extra shelves or drawers or anything for you to unpack," he bites his lip. "I'll have to ask Laura about it tomorrow."

Niall shrugs. "No worries; I can pull my own weight around here. I'll figure it out."

Zayn shakes his head. "No, like, Laura. She makes stuff, fixes stuff. I just meant that talking to her would get you a real bedroom set free, is all."

Of course. Niall would find a way to fuck something so simple up in less than an hour. He nods. "Right. Guess I'll just...head to bed then. Got a big day tomorrow."

(Bressie promised to give him a much more in-depth tour than the one Maura gave him, one that'll include where to get groceries, toiletries, clothes. Where to go when you need to do washing and who to talk to when your sink is broken. How he'll earn his keep and help Theo stay safe. Niall's just a bit worried, seeing as Bressie actually reminds him a lot of Craig -

But that's not important.)

Nodding, Zayn makes to step out of the room. "Alright, then. Uh, just so you know, I don't tend to wake up before eleven at the earliest. Ever. So just make yourself at home and do whatever you need to when you wake up." He steps out the door, but pokes his head back a second later. "And if you ever need, like, a babysitter for Theo, I totally could help out with that. I've got a goddaughter, somewhere out there; used to take care of her all the time. So. Just saying."

He leaves, shutting the door behind him, and Niall screws up his lips. He doesn't want to ask, doesn't know how it'll come across but -

He's opening the door before he can stop himself.

"Hey," he calls. Zayn turns, already halfway through his own bedroom door. "Why are there so many Brits here? We're in Ireland. And not even the part of Ireland that's in the UK, like. The real Ireland. What's up with that?"

Shrugging once again - there seems to be a lot of that going around with them - Zayn half laughs. "Dunno, mate. Maybe there's just more to run from in England. Or maybe we've got more than you, you know? Ask Brez; he can tell you."

And he disappears into his room.

*•*•*

Bressie surprises Niall in the morning, shows up at the flat early in the morning and tell him to get dressed. When Niall goes to wake Theo up, though, he says no, and says Maura will be over to get him.

He leads him to a break in the fence that encloses the Compound, one that gives them access to the beach. As they walk across the uneven sand Bressie explains that it's for anyone who wants a quick getaway for some peace and quiet. Easy access. All Niall can think of is how pointless the entire gate it with the one hole that'll let anyone through. Maybe it's just his training talking.

When they reach the shore, water lapping at their feet calmly, Bressie turns to him, expression serious.

"I need to know that we can trust you," he says. Niall's brow furrows. "I get it, chief, I do. Your brother's dead, and so's his wife, and now you've got a nephew you need to look after. And your mam was here without you knowing it, so it seems like you've got enough to keep you here, but. You're SFH first, no matter what. It's how you are. So what's to say you won't use that to take all of us down?" He shakes his head. "Harry was a different story; anyone can see that he hated being there. But I can't get a read on you, chief. Not even Maura knows what's going on in your head, and she's your mam."

Niall directs his gaze to the ocean, still quietly tossing waves no bigger than Theo is. He'll have to bring him out here sometime. He sighs.

"Obviously," he starts, "I can't do anything to really convince you that I don't plan to bring down the entire armory of the SFH on this place. That's up to you to decide. But," he runs a hand through his hair, shifting his weight. "I have hated every second of my service, since the moment I was drafted. Did I play along? Yeah. Definitely. And I did a lot of killing in a very short period of time. But there was never a moment where I enjoyed what I was doing, where I was happy with myself. I've wanted to leave for years, now, but obviously I couldn't, not unless I wanted to be charged with desertion and become an outlaw meself. With Greg and Denise dead, I just. I've finally been pushed like I needed to be, to move my arse up out of that hellhole. And even if it's a tad hypocritical, what I'm doing, I don't care. I'm going to make sure Theo makes it well into his later years, whether or not you'll let me. I owe my brother, and every mutant I've ever killed in vain, that much." He shrugs. "That's really all I can say about it."

Bressie nods. "Good. Let's get started, then."

*•*•*

They spend the day meeting with the heads of every department, starting with Louis. He's the head of security, they tell him, and it's mainly because of his mutation. He can create shields, apparently, physical or mental, and can protect as many people as he wants at once, individually or as a group. Niall would be, under different circumstances, interested. But since it's Louis, who's made his dislike for Niall very clear, and who tried to kill him yesterday, he can't bring himself to. He makes a note not to get too close to the gate unless it's absolutely necessary, from here on out. Never know if Louis will try to pull something again.

They meet with Jade, next, although this visit is very brief. She explains her role and Harry's, and lets him know that if he ever needs her to just let her know. She also apologizes for not showing him her second mutation the night before, and promises him that they'll get around to it. Honestly, Niall doesn't mind either way.

Then they meet with Laura, a nice blonde girl who is the first Irish person here he's come across, other than Bressie, his mam, and himself. She's head of maintenance, she says, and can fix anything in no time at all. Niall mentions his lack of furniture, and she promises to get right on it.

Next is Lou, yet another Brit, who's head of personal materials such as clothes and whatnot. Then it's Willie, who's in charge of making sure all the kids - as well as anyone else who wants it - get some form of education.

Last but not least - not even to be funny, as she's the one feeding them all - is Perrie, who's in charge of the agricultural department, and anything else to do with food. It's clear upon meeting her why. She's a smallish blonde thing who just radiates sunlight, as if she were made of it. It's like - Niall's not a poet, but if he had to write a poem about Perrie, he'd make sure to go on for ages about how her eyes reflect the blue of the sky and her hair the light of the sun. How her sun kissed cheeks always stretch wide from smiling all the time. How maybe the reason global warming is such a big deal is because the human incarnation of the sun is standing right in front of him.

And Perrie grins at him shyly after he's thought all this, cheeks growing pink almost as if -

Oh shit.

He fecking _knew_ there had to be some sort of telepath here.

*•*•*

"So how's your day going so far?" asks Maura when they're in line for breakfast. There's a huge canteen by the barn where all the food is kept, and every mealtime it's filled with anyone who can't be bothered to cook their own meals. It's quite a neat setup, really. Reminds Niall of how Greg used to describe uni, when he tried for half a semester in Dublin but then gave up because he didn't think he was smart enough.

(And, strangely enough, Greg used to tell him that he'd fit right in, Niall, since he's so smart. But Niall's never seen himself as anything more than average; he's just doing what's expected of him, is all.)

(Also, thinking about Greg doesn't hurt nearly as much as he'd expect. Maybe being in the SFH just made him completely unable to feel any sort of emotion. That's what Harry used to say.)

(Anyway.)

Niall shrugs. "S'fine. Been going around with Bressie meeting everyone who's in charge and the like. Gonna start doing the music stuff with Zayn after this."

Maura's brows jump. "So soon? I thought they'd let you settle in first, give you a few days to get used to all this. It's a bit of a culture shock, don't you think?"

Niall looks up to where the cooks are setting up the dishes on the line, to where a six-armed old man is serving four people at once while playfully snatching the hairnets of two others. He sighs.

"You could say that again."

*•*•*

Niall meets with Zayn in his classroom on the third floor of Town Hall, with his guitar in hand, and can't help but whistle when he sees just how much the people here value their arts and crafts. It's a spacious room - just like every other room in the freaking mansion - and it's got groups of tables forming a circle around a chest overflowing with toys, little signs hanging over them with station names written in fancy print. There's painting, reading, writing, music. The walls are lined with shelves carrying all sorts of art supplies and other things. One corner of the room has a strange ensemble of instruments that look as if they haven't been used in months.

He knocks on the open door, unable to spot Zayn in the mess of colors the room presents, and startles when a head pops up behind the desk in the far corner, by the row of windows. It's Zayn, looking as if he's just woken up. Niall sighs.

"Brought me guitar," he says, holding it up. Rubbing a hand over his face, Zayn uses his desk to get to his feet. He walks over slowly, trying not to step on any of the supplies strewn across the floor.

"That's great, mate, why don't you just set up over there, with the other instruments. Um," he glances at Niall from behind a fist. "You wouldn't happen to know how to play anything else, would you?"

Shrugging, Niall sets his guitar case down on a chair and flicks open the locks. "Some piano, drums. Tried to learn the violin in primary, but that didn't turn out well." He nods at Zayn. "You?"

A corner of his mouth pulls up in a crooked grin. "Uh, bout the same as you, minus the drums. Just not enough to teach anyone, else I wouldn't need you, would I?" He waves at the abandoned instruments. "These're all donations, though I don't know who from. Bressie just came in one day and dropped them off."

Eyebrows cocked, Niall looks around. "They look like they haven't  been properly used in years."

Zayn shrugs. "In all honesty, that's probably true. The kids try to use them every once in a while, and the adults who used to play will give it a go, but no one ever gives them a real chance." Running a hand through his hair, he half turns to the rest of the room. "Everyone seems to be more interested in everything else."

Niall nods. "So what do you do?" he asks. "Paint, right? I saw all that stuff in the flat."

The half grin appears again. "Yeah, yeah. I practice any medium, really, but my favorite is definitely painting. Or graffiti." He glances at the huge digital clock hanging above the door. "Um, the kids are gonna start coming in a minute, so why don't you...set up, or something."

They both stare at Niall's guitar, sitting innocently in its case. It's the only thing he brought; he doesn't have sheet music or staff paper or anything. He didn't exactly plan on staying here when he first set out. Niall raises a hand, starts chewing on a nail.

This is going to be a lot harder than he thought.

In the end, he decides to pack his guitar up again. Zayn gives him a funny look, but says nothing.

He'll just have to do this the old fashioned way.

As the kids start pouring in, Niall sees that there's not many of them, maybe twenty, aging no younger than six and no older than sixteen. If all of them are mutants, none of them look it. They don't glow, or have any extra limbs. Their features are normal, their skin the average tones of anyone from the UK. Zayn greets them all by name, asking them about random things going on in their lives. When they've all filed in and sat down, he introduces Niall.

"Everyone, this is mister, um," he turns to Niall. "What's your surname?"

Raising a brow, Niall answers him.

"Right, this is Mr. Horan, and he's new here. He's going to be helping me out from now on, alright?" He gently kicks out at a boy who's not paying attention, too far away to even reach him. "Pay attention, Declan. Now, Mr. Horan is really good with music, so anyone who wants can go with him to the music corner, and the rest can do - you know, whatever. Today, I'm going to be in the drawing station, so. Go ahead."

Once he's finished talking, the kids all stand and spread out to whichever station suits their fancy. A good chunk of the older girls go with Zayn, with maybe one or two boys. The younger kids choose the toys in the center of the room, and while the rest of the kids spread out, three boys of about thirteen approach Niall hesitantly.

He smiles weakly. "Hi."

He can't help but be reminded of his first year of service, when he was fresh out of training. He and Liam had been asked to meet new recruits and give them the first few lessons of their weapons training. The two of them had been chosen because they were the tops of their year. They both hated it.

The boys stare at him, unimpressed. Taking in a deep breath, Niall shoves his hands into his pockets, ignoring how Zayn watches him, waiting to see how he'll proceed.

"Any of you know anything about music? At all?" He looks at all of them, waiting for an answer. When they don't give him one, he sighs and runs a hand over his face. Placing the guitar case on the floor, he takes a seat and gestures for the boys to do so as well. There's a stack of blank paper on a shelf near them, and Niall grabs a few pages and a pencil out of a bucket nearby. He quickly sketches out a staff made up of four measures, along with a treble and bass clef, and writes down the types of note lengths.

Flipping the paper so the boys can see, he points to the staff first. "So, when you read music, the paper should always look like this. Five lines going across the page with four spaces between them, and some lines cutting through them. This is called a staff," he moves his hand to the space between two of the vertical lines, "and these are measures. You follow?"

Only one boy nods, but it's enough for Niall.

"Right, so..."

The rest of the hour goes by smoothly, Niall able to get through most of the basic written components of sheet music that don't have to with the actual notes. Beats, measure counts, and the like. Easy stuff. The boys seem fairly intrigued, and even though only of them says anything the entire time (Declan, the boy from earlier, asked if he could take a break to use the toilet), Niall thinks they enjoyed themselves. When they walk out at the end of the period, Niall can't help but be a little proud.

He helps Zayn clean up, taking instruction on where to put everything, while thinking about where to get some books on reading music. So intrigued with this train of thought as he is, he doesn't notice the small changes happening around him.

Where the tables had previously been a deep wood, they now have random bursts of color splattered along at weird intervals. They look almost like paint-covered fingers dragged themselves across the tabletops, only it doesn't look like paint. It looks as if the tables came with these random prints on them. Niall follows them with his eyes until he sees Zayn picking up a handful of coloring pencils. As he scrambles for them before they can roll away, his fingertips lightly drag across the table, leaving streaks of color in their wake. Niall's breath catches in his throat.

It must be louder than he intended, because Zayn's head snaps up at the sound, and their gazes meet. Niall's eyes are wide in wonder, and Zayn's eyes are narrowed suspiciously.

"What?" he asks lowly. Niall gestures to the tables.

"How are you doing that?" He curses himself when his voice wavers. Clearing his throat, he replaces a bunch of sketchbooks on their shelf. "I mean, like. Is that you?" He makes an abortive gesture at the tables. "The colors?"

Surprised, Zayn looks down at them and makes a noise high in his throat, almost as if he hadn't even realized what he'd been doing. "Yeah, it is." He wipes a hand across the table as if cleaning it, and Niall watches on as the colors cling to his fingers and almost sink into the skin.

"Wow," he mumbles.

Zayn glances up at him, that half grin making yet another appearance. "S'only part of what I can do," he laughs quietly. "Probably the best part, though."

He finishes tidying up, and Niall quickly follows suit. "What's your mutation again? Jade never said, and I haven't been able to ask you."

Oh. "Um," Niall hedges. He raises a hand to start chewing on a nail, suddenly nervous as to what Zayn might think once he hears the truth. "I'm not, actually. A mutant, that is. But Theo is; he's why we came, really."

Walking towards his desk - which happens to be right behind Niall - Zayn nods. "That's cool. Lots of the normal people here came because someone they're involved with is a mutant. The rest came because they're sympathizers; made a public statement about their allegiance to us and was targeted by the SFH. Load of twats, those guys are."

And wow, does this really set Niall going on his nails. By the time the day's over he probably won't have any left. Great.

Only about an arm's length away, now, Zayn reaches up towards Niall's face. He flinches away, but all Zayn does is wrap a gentle hand around Niall's wrist and tug it down. "Bad habit, that," he mumbles, mouth quirking.

(And boy does it remind Niall of the way Craig and even Harry used to be so endeared yet annoyed with his nail-biting. They both used to smile fondly and tug his hand away from his mouth, replace it with their lips, and he probably shouldn't be thinking about doing the same thing now when Zayn is probably straight. It's wrong, anyway, to be thinking those thoughts.)

Blinking away the sudden rush of memories, Niall gapes at Zayn, missing whatever he had been saying. "Sorry, what?"

It almost seems as if the half grin will never go away, at this point. "Was just saying you did really well the kids today. I wouldn't have been able to figure out where to start." As he speaks, he walks behind his desk and gathers up a bag. Swinging it over his shoulder, he jerks his head towards the door so they can leave. Niall walks with him as he answers, snatching up his guitar on the way.

"Oh, um, I just did what I could in such a pinch, yeah? When I, um, used to give classes I would do the written stuff first, then let the students get handsy with the equipment." Of course, the written stuff would be diagrams of different types of assault rifles, students being recruits to the SFH, and equipment being actual various assault rifles. But Zayn doesn't need to know that.

His eyebrows bounce up, impressed. "That's cool, mate. Didn't know you used to give classes. You looked so lost up there," he laughs easily, leading Niall down the hall to the stairs.

Niall smiles weakly. "Yeah, but only for about a year. Had to move on after that." Moving on being starting his tour officially, but. Who cares, really.

They continue to chat about Niall's 'classes' as they trek down the stairs, Zayn asking questions and Niall giving answers that are partly truthful and partly made up. But only made up in the sense that Niall is using a lot of metaphors. He always did get top marks in English.

As they set foot on the infirmary floor, Niall still going on about how great his 'students' were, he wishes that for once he could just do the right thing. He sees Harry coming out from behind a curtained-off bed, clipboard in hand, obviously listening to everything they're saying. His eyes are narrowed, and he tries to meet Niall's gaze. Niall ignores him best as possible.

Zayn is just asking about how he got into teaching when Harry interrupts.

"You were a teacher, Niall? When did you have time for that, in between being recruited and training and finally starting your tour?"

Niall bites his lip, eyes darting between Zayn and Harry, one looking confused and the other upset. Even though Harry has no right to be, because if he would just mind his own damn business instead of listening to other people's conversations then he would be fine.

"Um," Niall tries, but Zayn interrupts.

"Recruited where?" he asks slowly.

Trying to intervene, Niall starts stammering out a weak explanation, but Harry beats him to it.

"He's in the SFH, didn't you know?" He meets Niall gaze with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Captain of his very own team and everything. Could lead an entire squadron into war if he wanted to, he's so well respected."

Zayn stares at Niall, mouth agape, but Niall doesn't look away from Harry. "You act so high and mighty, Styles, but you're not innocent either. Or did you forget that you were on my team? For two and a half _fecking_ years," he snaps. Jaw clenching tightly, he directs his next statement at Zayn. "I never really lied, did I, just didn't say where it was a taught. Or what I taught."

Shaking his head slowly, Zayn takes a half step back. "So you're - you're both SFH?" He asks quietly. "Shit. Um. I need to - to go, I think."

And he walks off. Niall watches him go, until he's no longer visible walking down the stairs, and turns to Harry. "What the fuck was _that_ , Sergeant?" he snaps.

Harry shrugs. "Figured he deserved to know the truth. His mum was almost killed you know, and she's not even a mutant. One of them teams thought they saw her moving something telekinetically; she was in the hospital for weeks."

"And that's somehow my fault?" Niall laughs mirthlessly. "Shouldn't you be blaming yourself a bit, too, seeing as every team has a paramedic?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry turns away, heading back to the curtain he'd come out from behind. "Stop calling me Sergeant, _Captain_. I'm done with that fucking organization."

"Ironic, innit, since you enlisted on your own?" Niall calls after him.

Harry stops, turning slowly on his feet until he's facing Niall once again. His eyes are narrowed in anger, tenfold what it was just a moment ago, and his free fist is clenched with anger, the one holding the clipboard holding on tightly.

"Don't you _dare_ ," he hisses, walking slowly as he speaks, until he's chest to chest with Niall. "You know why I enlisted, I fucking told you why I had to. You're such a prick, you know that?" He shoves Niall away, then gets right back in his face. "You like to act like you're so fucking high and mighty when you can't even admit you're g-"

"Shut the fuck _up_ , Styles," Niall says loudly, a tone of warning in his voice. "Don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Eyes narrowed dangerously, Harry lowers his voice. "Still running from the truth, aren't you? Are you ever gonna be a man and just face the facts?" His eyes widen mockingly. "Or will your daddy beat you when he finds out his son is bent?"

Fuming, Niall sets his guitar on the floor gently. (No matter how pissed off he is, he will never mistreat her.) He closes the last bit of space between the two of them, leaving no room for breathing between their chests and toes, and leans in towards Harry's face. "You want me to face the facts?" he growls.

And he kisses Harry.

The thing is, this is how they used to be, back when Niall's world was normal. When they lived together and used their moments alone to do - whatever. They would fight and argue and yell at each other, and it would always lead to this. It's wrong, Niall knows it, but what's a bloke to do. Either way, he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss it.

Obviously, Harry misses it as well, because he kisses back with a ferocity he lacked before. He lets the clipboard clatter to the floor, and barely winces when Niall bites his lip as the sound startles him. Twining his fingers through Niall's hair, he adjusts the angle so he can gain control of the kiss.

(That's something they used to do, too, but Niall doesn't want to think about that right now.)

Groaning, Niall's hand scrabble for purchase against Harry's tightly tucked shirt - which is a new fashion statement from him, but whatever - and ends up roughly pulling it out of the confines of his trousers and just shoving his hands underneath. He scratches at Harry's back, reveling in the way he arches his back. They continue kissing, both getting increasingly excited, until Harry pulls back with a gasp. Niall flushes at the wet sound their mouths make as they separate.

"Are we gonna finish this or what?" he asks, voice low and gravelly. It's been ages since he's so much as looked at anyone, he and Harry having stopped weeks before Harry ditched the force.

Breathing heavily, Harry jerks his chin to a door not too far away. "Utility closet," he murmurs. They take the time to hastily place their things on a bed, and practically run to the closet, Harry walking backwards as Niall pushes him towards it. He slams Harry's back against the door, taking the time to reach underneath his shirt and pull at his nipples, eliciting a throaty groan from Harry.

Niall smirks. "Still like that, I see," he whispers.

Hissing, Harry snatches his hand away. "Shut up." He pulls them inside the closet and reverses the roles, pushing Niall against the door and holding him down as he quickly unbuttons his shirt. "Such a prat, I can't _believe_ you," he says in between kisses, pushing Niall's shirt off his shoulders. "Why did I ever get in bed with you in the first place?"

Ignoring the way that pulls at Niall's chest, he tears Harry's shirt off. "Do you ever stop talking, Styles?" he asks breathily, tossing the short aside. "Or do you just like hearing your own voice that much?"

Harry scoffs. "You're one to talk, wanker."

Grinning loosely, Niall shrugs against the door. "That is the goal here, innit?"

Harry pauses for a second, realizing exactly what just happened, and growls, "Shut up, _god_ ," and he sinks to his knees.

Startled, Niall pushes at his forehead and gasps, "Harry, really?"

Making quick work of Niall's flies, he shrugs. "Haven't gotten off with you in a while, have I? Can't blame me for being eager."

"Your words, not mine," Niall gasps. He chokes out a moan when Harry finally gets his prick out, resting his head against the door none too lightly. "Fuck, Harry, just get on with it, will you?"

Sending a quick smirk up at him, Harry does as he so rarely will, and listens. He sucks the head of Niall's cock into his mouth, eyes wide as he stares up at him. Hollowing out his cheeks, he swirls his tongue around the slit, and Niall lets out a breathy moan. "Shit, Harry." Harry hums, sinking deeper and taking as much of Niall's length as he can. He bobs his head a few times, licking at the underside of Niall's cock as he goes. Niall's not too proud to admit he doesn't last very long, and weakly warns Harry before coming.

Harry swallows it all, licking his lips as he pulls off. Although he's worn out from actually being able to get from something other than his own hand, he pulls at Harry's shoulders to try to get him to stand.

"C'mon, let me do you," he murmurs, but Harry shakes his head. He rests his forehead against Niall's thigh - still covered in his trousers, believe it or not - and shoves his hand down his pants. Had Niall just not come, he'd be chubbing up again at the sight.

He knows the movement of Harry's hand must be limited, he so loves wearing ridiculously tight jeans, and the thought of Harry being too desperate to even unbutton his pants steals Niall's breath.

"Shit, Harry," he says again.

Harry moans, pressing his forehead deeper into Niall's thigh, and his hips jerk unevenly as he comes. Niall winces; that's going to be a bitch to clean up.

They stay where they are as they come down from the rush, until Niall spots a tube of antibiotic wipes on a shelf by his head. He grabs at it, pops open the lid, and holds it down for Harry to grab. He snorts out a laugh when Harry murmurs a thanks and pulls a few out. He breathes in deep as Harry situates himself and stands again.

They dress in tense silence, and when Niall is about to say something, Harry turns to him with a strange look in his eye. "Don't cry too much when you get out of here; I know how often you used to do that," he says dully, and pries Niall off the door so he can walk out.

Niall runs a hand through his hair, unwittingly thinking back to all the times Harry had to calm him down after they'd finished. It was more often than not, if he's to be honest. Three times out of five, maybe. He thunks his head against the door, pulling hard enough on his hair for little tears to prick at his eyes.

"Shit," he whispers into the dark.

*•*•*

When he gets back to Zayn's flat, it's obvious that Theo is not there. He hadn't been with Maura during breakfast, and Niall hadn't had lunch in the canteen when it came around to it. Bressie had told him about some sort of daycare program, but he'd also promised Theo would be with Maura today.

He's just about to leave again so he can try to find them when Zayn storms out of the kitchen and throws his phone at him. Hard. "It's been going off all day; some prick named Liam wants to know what you've been up to," he snaps, and disappears back into the kitchen.

Startled, Niall looks down at his phone. The screen is lit up with an ongoing call from Payne, the timer reading less than two minutes. Niall sighs. He'd totally forgotten about his phone; he'll have to toss it before the base realizes he's deserted.

Not really wanting to, he raises the phone to his ear. "Hullo?"

"Niall!" Liam exclaims. "Who was that other bloke? He was practically choking me through the phone because I'm SFH."

He sounds the same as he always does, happy albeit slightly confused. It was how he sounded when they found out they have the same last name, how he sounded when he found out he was being assigned to Niall's own team, how he sounded when he first started teasing Niall and Harry about their after hours activities. It makes Niall wish everything could be back to normal.

"Um," he leans against the front door, biting on his nails. "He's my flatmate, I guess." He winces at how unsure he sounds.

Liam laughs. "What? Why do you have a flatmate if you don't have a flat?" He goes on speaking before Niall can answer. "Anyway, um, I was just calling because I just heard about your brother, actually." His voice loses its happy tinge. "Wanted to make sure you were alright. _Are_ you alright?"

Resting his head against the door and focusing solely on the feel of his neck stretching, Niall hums. "Depends on what your definition of alright is, really." He chuckles darkly. "My brother is dead because of the people I work for. Imagine what a slogan that would make."

The line goes crackly as Liam lets out a loud breath. Niall's mouth quirks. "That sounded heavy."

"Not allowed to breath now, am I?" Liam quips, just like that day on the pier after Harry left. He sighs again. "Higgins said you might be going rogue. Wanted me to make are you'll really be coming back next week."

Sighing lightly so it's not heard, Niall shrugs even though it won't be seen. "Course. Don't wanna be an outlaw, do I?" He laughs, the first real laugh in what feels like days, at the blatant lie. "No, I'll definitely be back. Don't wanna be in league with Harry."

Liam stays silent for a second, and Niall can practically feel the Look™ he must be aiming at his phone. "Are you drunk, mate?"

Laughing, Niall makes a disagreeing noise. "Nah, just being a prat. Listen, Liam, just let Higgins know I'll be back on Thursday, as agreed. No need to worry."

The line goes crackly again. "Alright," Liam answers, sounding relieved. Niall feels a twinge of guilt in his chest, but pushes it away. "Need a strong captain, don't we?"

With a weak laugh, Niall rings off. He lifts his head from the door and slams it down once and, when it momentarily stops the whirlwind of thoughts, keeps doing it. He's set up a nice even beat when he feels something soft rather the hard wood of the door.

Startled, he blinks his eyes open, seeing an unamused Zayn to his side, holding a throw pillow to the door. His face drawn, Zayn nods. "Please, keep going. I'm just trying to make sure you don't give yourself a concussion."

Swallowing hard, Niall stands up straight. "Sorry, if it was bothering you. And - and for ear-"

Zayn holds up a hand, stopping him. "You said it yourself, you didn't really lie. Just didn't tell the whole truth." His arm drops, pillow hanging loosely from his fingers. Technically I shouldn't even be mad. I don't know what you've done and it's not necessarily your fault if I've got some issues with that stupid organization. Was just surprised, I guess, especially about Harry." Brows furrowing, he shakes his head. "Are you sure you're not a mutant?" he asks, disbelieving.

Niall pulls a face. "Positive, mate, or I wouldn't exactly be a highly decorated captain. Why?"

Shaking his head still, Zayn makes his way through the mess of art supplies strewn about and throws himself onto the couch. "Dunno, I just. I've never spoken this much, to anyone I've just met. I keep to myself, see. Barely speak to anyone other than the kids and like, three adults here. And yet with you I'm just gabbing away." He makes a talking motion with his hand, waving grandly. "S'weird, is all."

"No offense, but. You should probably be used to weird. You can shoot rainbows out of your fingers." Niall answers.

"And more," Zayn adds.

"And more," Niall amends.

*•*•*

They eat dinner in the canteen together, somewhat tensely. Niall doesn't see Maura, but he sees Lou leading a group of toddlers in through the doors, each of them running off to their families. He waves at Theo, who waddles over to them on his stubby legs. He eagerly climbs onto Niall's lap and starts picking through his plate.

Affronted - yet amused, because Theo is too adorable for anything else - Niall pushes his plate away. "Hey now, lad, that's mine," he laughs. "Why don't we get you your own plate, eh?"

Theo shakes his head, struggling to reach the plate and pull it back. His torso is completely flat on the tabletop, and he still ends up falling short. He grunts as his little feet kick, trying to climb up onto the table. Niall watches on, laughing quietly, until a dark-skinned hand pushes the plate into Theo's grabbing hands. He cheers and plops down onto Niall's crotch. "Hey," he protests, looking up.

It's Jade, with Perrie. Her hair is less silver that it was yesterday, and Niall frowns. Her last touch up must've been a while ago. Or she just washes her hair a lot.

She smiles at him. "Hello, lads. How did today go?" She looks between the two of them eagerly.

Zayn nods, still mostly hunched over his own plate and the sketchbook he brought along. "Was fine," he mumbles. His eyes flick up, barely. "Hey, Pez."

Perrie nods courteously. "Zayn." She turns to Niall, looking more than happy to talk to him instead. "Niall, Jade and I were just wondering if you'd like to see what we can do?" She nudges Jade with her elbow. "This one here says you were interested, yeah?"

Looking between the three of them, Niall nods slowly. "Sure, why not. Um," he winces as Theo shifts over his groin, in a way that is much more painful than anything else. "Can Theo come, or should I find me mam?"

Jade laughs. "You know, your mum isn't the only person who can help you with Theo. Lou's our resident babysitter, I'll have you know, and even Willie is willing to help out outside of classes occasionally. Or you can ask literally anyone else; we're all family here."

"More or less," Zayn mumbles into his sketchbook.

Rolling her eyes, Perrie shifts away from him slightly. Niall's brows jump up in interest. "You can bring him, if you'd really like, but Jade's right; literally anyone here can be trusted with the kids."

Niall glances between Zayn and Theo, and he figures he might as well, right? They're going to be spending a lot of time with each other anyway, seeing as they live together now. He taps Zayn's elbow.

"Hey, do you mind?" he asks, gesturing to Theo, who's very busy picking Niall's plate apart.

Zayn shrugs. "I guess." He doesn't look up from his sketchbook.

"Okay, then," Niall hums, and slides out from under Theo, who has to stand on the bench to reach his plate. "Just keep an eye on him, yeah? Make sure he doesn't choke and that." Zayn nods, not even bothering to answer verbally, and Niall exhales heavily. He turns to the girls before he can do anything dumb.

"Shall we?"

*•*•*

The sun is still setting when they walk out, half of it peeking over the edge of the ocean in the distance, and Perrie grins. "Me first," she says lightly.

She steps forward, closing her eyes and lifting her arms up as if to give the sun a hug. Niall glances at Jade through the corner of his eye, to see if this is for real or what, but Jade's gaze is focused on Perrie so intently he gets his answers right there.

Then, as if in pain, Perrie stiffens, back bowing slightly. She lifts onto her toes, seemingly without noticing, as if a rope around her torso were pulling at her. And then she begins to glow. Niall watches on in awe as tendrils of light sneak out of the sun towards Perrie, seeping into her. Her hair brightens, her skin grows golden, and still the rays seek her out, still they sink into her. She glows much brighter, suddenly, as if she were a sun on her own, and as if nothing has happened, the sun sinks below the surface of the ocean and she's back to normal. She grins, exhaling happily.

"Gosh, I love the rush I get when I do that," she giggle breathily, turning to them.

Niall gapes, a small noise escaping his throat. "And - and what, exactly, can you do with that?" He stares between them, mouth hanging open.

Shrugging, Perrie points a finger at him. A small ray of light shines from it, very E.T., and lights up a small circle on Niall's shirt. "Obviously that's not all; it can be as powerful as I want it to be. I could even blind you right now, if I wanted to."

Niall blanches. "Please don't."

Jade laughs, stepping forward after watching the exchange. "She has to go through that every few days, just like me. It would work at any time, really, but we prefer dusk cos it's quicker and we can both get a fill not too far from each other." She pouts briefly. "New moons _suck_ , though."

Laughing, Perrie shoves her playfully. "At least they're only once a month, yeah?"

Scratching at his head, Niall makes a face. "So...you're head of agriculture because...?" he trails off.

"Well," says Perrie, "the strength of the sun doesn't affect what I can do it with, otherwise sunsets would be a shit time. So, during the winter, I'm able to keep the crops in good health, even with a week sun and shitty weather." She shrugs. "We're really popular for our potatoes, not surprisingly. They need to be available all year round."

"Oh," is all Niall can say.

Looking up, Jade grins. "Looks like our friend has come out without letting us know," she says quietly, more to the moon than anyone else. Niall frowns.

She steps forward, in the same position as Perrie. The rest is basically the same, only instead of glowing like the sun, Jade becomes her own little moon, right there on the ground. And, Niall notices, the silver of her hair crawls up her scalp, until she's got a full head of shining locks. _So it's not dye_ , he thinks curiously.

The process ends the same, only for a different reason. Once the silver color has completely covered Jade's head, the glow of her body fades, and the Rays of moonlight creep back to where they came from. She turns, shining happily.

"Your head literally looks like the moon," Niall can't help but laugh.

The girls join in, until the three of them are standing around laughing like a bunch of twits. When they finally calm down, Niall's hand finds its way to his mouth, and he starts biting on his nails, a question burning in his head.

"So," he starts. The girls, having started their own idle conversation, quiet and turn to him. He flushes. "Um, so Jade has the healing, and the moon thing, yeah?" They nod, unsure of where he's going with this. "And Perrie has the sun thing and...what?"

"Oh," Jade grins slyly. "She can read minds, too." Perrie makes a sound of protest.

Niall laughs weakly. "I figured as much."

"I don't _read minds_ ," Perrie says, exasperated. "I can sense emotions, is all. Like right now, you're nervous because me reading minds means I know your faults, or something. That's all!"

Eyes squinting in a wince, Niall's head tilts down a degree. "Doesn't make it seem much better, to be honest."

Perrie sighs, sending a look - very similar to Liam's, almost deserving of its own trademark - at Jade. "All it is is a very specific understanding of emotions. You know how you'll hear someone say they're good at reading people? Well I'm amazing at reading people. And always correct, unlike others. That's all. I swear it."

She looks so upset at being unable to get her point across that Niall concedes. "I get it, don't worry," he laughs. She pouts playfully.

He shakes his head, whispering to himself, "What have I gotten into."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a moment of panic, Niall pulls the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again...
> 
> Some general warnings for violence somewhere around the middle/end of the chapter (depending on how you see it)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ps let me know if you think this is moving too quickly or if i ramble too much in the narrative it's for science

**What Happened**

"Haz, not now," Niall mumbles, trying to finish some reports. They'd had three missions today; Higgins is afraid there might be an influx of mutants from other countries, seeing as they were all immigrants. Two from Germany, one from Armenia. Niall suspects it's nothing. He's usually right, but.

Harry whines, nuzzling further into Niall's neck. "C'mon," he murmurs, kissing his neck. "Just a quickie, then you can do your boring paperwork."

Rolling his eyes, Niall shrugs Harry off. "Quit. Don't you have your own paperwork to fill out?" He ignores the rush of heat that shoots through his stomach when Harry starts peppering kisses on his jaw. He's been planning on telling Harry they need to stop soon, anyway. This'll make it easier.

"Actually," says Harry between kisses, "I've already finished all mine. It's easier when no one needs medical assistance." He starts sucking a mark into Niall's skin, and hums when he's finished, sounding pleased.

Sighing heavily, Niall leans back into Harry's arms. "That better not last long; you know what I said about marks," he says, resigned. Harry, sensing his victory, smiles against his neck. "Thirty minutes, Haz, that's it. If I don't get this done I'm screwed, alright?"

Humming happily, Harry turns his chair and climbs into Niall's lap. "Wanna see if we can get Liam to scream again?"

Niall makes a face. "That sounds really weird considering the position we're in, one. Two, no, because the less Liam has to deal with us the less likely he is to go around telling everyone." He lightly places his hands on Harry's hips. "This isn't the kind of thing that needs to be spread around."

Harry rolls his eyes. "Whatever, babe."

**What's Going On**

Over the next few days, Niall spends a lot of his free time with Perrie. She's absolutely in love with Theo, asks Niall to bring him along all the time. He doesn't mind, obviously; if he can make sure Theo's okay while also enjoying himself, then by all means.

(He's also noticed that she and Jade seem to be, well, _more than friends_. He's not quite sure how to feel about it, seeing as he doesn't even know if they really are, and how he can't even feel anything but negative about how he and Harry were 'more than friends.' For now, he'll continue to assume their friendship is just very physical. Until he's told otherwise, that's what he's going with.)

(He hates that he can't just ask and be okay and be done with it, but. What can you do.)

It's a slow process, adapting to the Compound. He gets further along in his music lessons, with more kids coming to his corner every day, and is actually starting to worry about getting these kids actual instruments to play. That's going to be tough. Zayn isn't really making it any easier, mostly brushing him off and barely talking to him back at the flat. Laura had dropped off a full bedroom set the day after speaking with Niall, with a set of drawers, desk, and an extra bed frame for Theo. When Niall had asked Zayn to help him set up everything up, Zayn had mumbled something unintelligible and left the room.

Niall had taken his frustration out on his phone, which he had to get rid of anyway, and had thrown it against the wall so many times Theo got the impression that it was some sort of game and started throwing his own things against the wall.

Niall feels so uneasy that he hasn't even unpacked yet. He's afraid it'll mean a sort of permanence, a metaphorical way of accepting the fact that he can't go back to his life. It hurts, he can't deny it. He misses Liam, misses his intense focus on even the smallest of things. He misses Jesy, and Leigh Anne, misses their easy bickering in the front of the car on the way to a mission. He definitely misses the privacy of his own housing unit, no matter how relative. Harry had lived with him, yeah, but whenever he wanted his own space, Niall wouldn't even see him for days unless it was in the car. Here, in Zayn's flat, he's constantly with Theo, or dealing with awkward meals in the kitchen that Zayn insists on having when he bothers cooking, even if they don't talk.

It's pretty awful, Niall's not gonna lie.

He's sitting on the floor in front of the set of drawers, his and Theo's bags spread open around him, trying to urge himself to unpack them. He knows they won't ever be leaving here, not unless they want to be caught and executed. He's an outlaw, as of two days ago, and Higgins knew about Theo somehow, which means there's probably an active search going on across the country for him. They can't leave, whether or not they like it.

Taking in a deep breath, he grabs the nearest bag, Theo's, and drags it to him. He's running low on diapers; he'll have to talk to Lou about that. Niall's not sure when exactly Theo should start with potty training, but he'll figure it out eventually. He'll ask Maura if he doesn't.

He empties the bag into the first column of drawers, claiming it as Theo's half. It's way too much space for the minimal amount of things, but once Theo starts getting more clothes and things, the drawers will be put to more use. Tossing the empty bag into a corner, he grabs his own. He'd only packed the one bag, and the meager contents have lasted him until today, exactly. He's gotta do laundry. Like, yesterday.

The act of placing his things in the drawers leaves him with a strange feeling in his gut. _This is real,_ it says. _You're stuck here, and so's the kid, and it's your fault._ It eats at him all the while, the thought that this is happening because of him. He knows, rationally, that it's not, really. But, he argues with himself, technically it is. If he'd stayed at base rather than coming to help Greg, he and Denise would have found this place on their own, alive. He's always had a knack for blaming himself irrationally. It's like a talent, his mam used to say.

He turns up empty when he reaches into the bag next. He's finished without even realizing it. Sighing, he goes to toss the bag with Theo's, until he feels a strange weight pull it down. His gut sinks with it.

Fingers looking for the hidden flap at the bottom of the bag, he prays that he's wrong. He doesn't remember putting it there, doesn't remember thinking it would be necessary while packing. His fingers catch on something. He's not wrong.

Niall pulls at the bottom of the bag, and it comes up easily. His breath catches in his throat when he sees the metallic glint sitting there. It's his revolver, the first one he got when he had completed his training. Higgins had given it to him as a gift for finishing at the top of his class, with marks so high he'd broken a few records. His initials are engraved into the wooden handle, with a small shamrock sitting by the H. Upon receiving it, his initial reaction had been dread. What would he ever need with a personal handgun?

He'd kept it, though. Stashed it away so deeply he'd forgotten about it. Turns out it wasn't that deep.

Sighing, he slips the gun into the back of his trousers, thinking of different places to dump it where it won't get found.

*•*•*

It's Sunday, so his and Zayn's shift at the rec center is free. Bressie seems set on making this place seem as mundane as possible, with a regular school and work schedule for everyone, which means free weekends. Even the canteen is closed so the kitchen staff can get a break. This means his day is free, and though usually he has Theo to keep him company, Lou had insisted on watching him. She seemed set on the kid becoming best of friends with her own daughter, Lux, even though there's a two year difference between them at least. Niall doesn't really mind, just. It confuses him.

The people of the Compound have been strangely welcoming towards him. He knows they're all aware of his social status; Louis's been spreading information about him since day one. And yet no one has been particularly nasty to him, not like Louis and Zayn have been. They seem to understand, almost, what he's been through and how he's been personally affected.

He has a sneaking suspicion Maura might have something to with it.

Speaking of, he hasn't spoken to her in days. They meet for breakfast sometimes, and when she wants a day with Theo, but they haven't had a real conversation since that first day. Niall's not sure what exactly is keeping him from approaching her with all the questions he's had running around in his head, when he's always been able to talk to her. Maybe he just likes to torture himself. After all, he's still sleeping with Harry.

He crosses the main square of the little village, a literal square full of grass that seems big enough to hold another few buildings. There's people spread out on blankets, soaking in the afternoon sun. Families messing about, kids showing off their mutations. It's quite cathartic, Niall thinks distantly, in a strange way. He's never seen people be so free in who they are. Back at the base everyone was so high strung, never _not_ focused on the complete destruction of mutants. There were unspoken rules, there, that plainly stated most normal things were not allowed. Things such as talking about family and being generally happy. There were no free weekends, no days to just hang out and relax. It was workworkwork, all the time.

In other words, the base was only two tiers above hell on earth.

Sighing, Niall does his best to shove all the awful memories of the place he left behind into some corner of his mind, and swings open the back door of the canteen. It leads into the storage room where all the dry foods are kept, a room that's about half the size of the canteen itself. He's seen the kitchen, and it's not something you would expect to find in a place run by outlaws. State of the art, industrial sized, with stainless steel everything. Niall didn't bother asking when he first saw it; the less he knows about illegal activities, the less he has to deal with his strange little moral dilemma.

The room is dark, and he has to navigate through the endless maze of shelves and boxes by holding his hands out in front of him. It's ridiculous, he thinks, to meet in a place where you could quite possible die if you're not careful. The shelves go to the ceiling, stacked to capacity with heavy boxes full of all kinds of food. If one of those things falls on his head, Niall's a goner.

He finds Harry lounging on a sack of wheat he must have dragged into the one beam of light coming in from the lone window, flipping through a book. Rolling his eyes, he toes off his shoes and settles down next to him.

"You know I hate meeting here," he says into the quiet. Harry hums, holding up a finger. After finishing what seems like half the book, he marks his place and sets the book aside. Primly, he turns to Niall.

"I'm sorry?" he asks, brows raised. Scoffing, Niall burrows deeper into the sack, hoping it doesn't burst like last time. Not only did he have to come up with a lie to explain what he was doing to Perrie, but it had taken forever to get the grains out of his hair.

He sighs. "Hate meeting here, I said," he mumbles, staring up at the ceiling. "It's uncomfortable, it's way too dark, and I'm pretty sure we're causing a ton of health violations." He makes a face. "I haven't been able to look at corn the same way since -"

"Okay!" Harry interrupts, looking disturbed. "We agreed we wouldn't talk about that, so. And anyway, it's not like we can meet anywhere else. The infirmary is always occupied by Jade, and the rec room is just as uncomfortable, and your place is off limits for obvious reasons. We either do it here, or we don't do it." He shrugs.

Niall bites his lip. "Maybe we shouldn't do it, then," he says quietly.

Harry scoffs. "Okay, yeah, cos that's a good idea." He rolls his eyes, turning away petulantly. When Niall doesn't say anything, he glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "Wait, you're not - you're not serious, are you?"

Niall shrugs. "S'not like we particularly enjoy each other's company, Haz. You almost ripped my willy off last time just for looking at you funny."

"Well maybe you shouldn't look at me funny," Harry snaps. He sighs. "I don't think -" he stops, sighs again. "Maybe we _should_ stop, eh? Making things a bit more complicated than they have to be, aren't we, what with all this sneaking around." He leans into Niall's shoulder. Niall only just manages to catch himself before he flinches away. "Yeah, I think you're right."

Niall nods, runs a hand through his hair. He needs a trim, he notices idly. "For real, this time. I dunno how many times we said we would stop back at base. Probably broke a few records, honestly." He shifts, and feel the revolver dig into his spine. He leans forward. "Hey, uh, you think you know a place where I could throw something out?"

Harry looks at him funny, upset and being moved. "The rubbish bin?" he asks slowly.

"Well, obviously, Harry, but I meant, like," Niall sighs and wets his lips. "Listen, remember the gun Higgins gave me? Way back when?"

Brows pulling down, Harry sits up. "The fancy one? Metal barrel, wooden handle, your initials engraved in?" Niall nods. Harry's eyes widen as the the realization dawns on him. "You didn't, Niall. This is supposed to be a safe place; there's no weapons allowed!"

"You think I don't know that?" Niall snaps. "Why do you think I'm trying to get rid of it?"

Pulling back, Harry makes a face. "Are you saying you were gonna just let me find a handgun on you without even warning me? Wow, Niall." He shakes his head. "You're so twisted."

Niall shakes his head, arms spread out. "Did you not hear me saying we should stop? Because, I mean, I remember you being there, mate," he says.

Harry stands. "Whatever, babe. Come on, I think I know a place."

They leave the storage room and barely make it past the length of the building before Bressie finds them, looking hassled. "Chief, where've you been?" he asks. He speaks again before letting Niall answer. "Never mind, just. You need to come with me. Right now."

Niall frowns. "What's going on?"

Bressie shakes his head. "Nothing good, mate."

*•*•*

He leads them to his office in Town Hall, a quaint little room with modest furnishings. It's all dark wood, very warm feeling. It's so unlike what Higgins's office was like that Niall has to catch his breath.

(His mam always used to say you could tell what kind leader someone was by looking at the room where they conduct all their business. If it was stiff and cold, then that was the kind of leader they were. If it wasn't, well. You could probably trust them with your life. Granted, she said this when meeting with Niall's headmaster at school once, so. Who knows how serious she was being.)

Bressie opens up the doors to a large wooden bureau, revealing a small flatscreen telly. He grabs the remote and switches it on, flipping through the channels until he lands on a news broadcast. Niall's breath catches in his throat at what he sees.

His official portrait is taking up the screen, the picture he took on the day he was promoted to captain, with a banner running underneath it. _CAPTAIN NIALL HORAN WANTED FOR DESERTION_ , it says. _CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION, CALL THE SPECIAL FORCES FOR HUMANITY HOTLINE._

"Oh, shit," Harry whispers harshly.

Bressie turns the volume up.

"- tain Niall Horan had been on an official leave of absence when his brother and sister in law were tried and executed for the aiding an abetting of illegal mutants," says the newslady. "According to Colonel Paul Higgins, they had spoken briefly on the day of the execution, and the Colonel says Captain Horan had sounded angry. We also have confirmation of Lieutenant Liam Payne speaking with him just the day after, though we haven't gotten a statement from him. Captain Horan was to return to duty two days ago, on Thursday, and has been deemed a deserter of the force. We would like to note that a former member of the Captain's own squad, Lieutenant Harry Styles, had also deserted his position only one week prior to the start of Captain Horan's leave." Niall's picture shrinks to a corner of the screen, revealing the woman who always covers any SFH-related news. "Captain Horan is considered armed and dangerous, so officials have stated that they do not want any civilians approaching him. If you have any information on his whereabouts, please call the SFH hotline." Her expressions grows grave. "This must be hard times, for one of our own enforcers of the law to turn on us."

And the broadcast starts over.

"Oh, _shit_ ," Harry repeats.

*•*•*

"There's no need to worry, really," Jade says, exasperated. "The last time anyone from normal civilization saw Niall it was before he came here, and even if we did get found, we've got protection. All kinds."

Bressie, confused and worried about the fate of the Compound, had called an emergency meeting of all the leaders. After running the broadcast for everyone in his office, they all sat down in the same room from Niall's first day. Although Harry hadn't been allowed in, Niall was, at Jade's insistence.

Now she says, "As long as we keep our heads and stay cautious, we'll be fine. No need to panic."

Louis scoffs. "Sure, Jade. You do realize that the SFH have advanced technology? They probably already know all about us!"

Rolling his eyes, Niall sits forward. "The SFH have advanced technology, yeah, but it's not good enough to have already found me. They've got no way to track me, anyway. I've got rid of my phone, so they can't track it, I haven't got a car, so they can't do anything with the plate. If anything, they'll have to run Denise's, since the car I came in was hers, but even the SFH are not that smart. They won't find me. They can't."

"Yeah, you say that now," Louis snaps, "but what happens when we're fighting a war because we didn't turn you over when we had the chance? We've got children here, _Captain Horan_ , not to mention the innocent civilians who live in the village outside the wall." He leans forward. "All their lives are resting on our shoulders, and the only way to make sure they stay safe is by getting rid of _you_."

"Louis," Bressie snaps. "We're trying to figure out a peaceful solution, not a solution that equates to murder."

Leaning back in his seat, Louis stays staring at Niall. Niall doesn't look away. "Well," he says, "it'd be only fair, wouldn't it? He's murdered hundreds of people, hasn't he? Poetic justice, innit."

Laura shakes her head, speaking for the first time. "I have to say, I kind of agree with Louis?" She looks at everyone, seeming torn. Louis smirks, smug. "But he's also quite biased, isn't he?" He grin falls. "We all know what happened to his family, all of them, so of course he's going to feel how he does." Niall glances at Louis, who's grown pale and wide eyed, brows furrowed. "If - if we look at this from a distance, there's really no clear answer, is there. Either we go against everything we stand for and throw someone to the very wolves we vow to protect people from, or we risk what might be only place in the country where mutants can be safe."

"I agree," says Perrie. She frowns. "Niall is obviously very important to the SFH; there was no national broadcast when Harry showed up. They have quite a few resources that go into the finding of mutants, otherwise they'd never find any, would they? I mean, they say they've got tons of loyal citizens, but how many times have they actually relied on one of those - anonymous tips, or whatever they're called." She looks at Niall, who shrugs.

"In all honesty, we always get told that we were informed. I'm not sure how true any of it was." He bites at his nails, frowning around them. "It can't have been too much, I mean. The researchers were always working. They got maybe an hour a day where they weren't looking for mutants, if even." He shrugs again.

Sighing heavily, Bressie runs a big hand down his face. "We have to come to a decision," he says. "All in favor of keeping Niall here, where we can make sure he's safe, while also running the risk of him and everyone here being found?" He looks around as people raise their hands.

Maura, Perrie, Jade, and Zayn - who hadn't been at Niall's first meeting - all raise their hands. Louis shakes his head angrily.

"Alright," Bressie sighs. "All in favor of asking Niall to leave, where he can be found by the SFH, put under trial and undoubtedly executed, while running the risk that he reveal our location?"

Louis, Willie, Lou, and Laura all raise their hands. Lou mouths a sad _sorry_ at Niall, who nods. He gets it.

"Well?" Louis snaps. "It's a draw."

Bressie runs his hands over his face as Niall watches on curiously. He looks out over the table gravely, shaking his head minutely. "I don't know," he mumbles. "There's so much that go wrong either way. We're not equipped to fight what will no doubt be a war if we're found. We can't just turn our backs on someone who so obviously regrets decisions that he didn't even have a choice in making. I just...don't know."

Swallowing hard, Niall looks down at the table.

He came here for a reason. His main goal, his _only_ goal, is to keep Theo safe. Had Greg and Denise been here, he probably would have gone right back to base. But now that they're not, now that he's the one who has to look out for him now, he can't go back. No matter what. But if keeping Theo safe means leaving, then it's what he'll do.

"I'll go," he says. Maura gasps from beside him. "I can promise you that if I do get caught, I won't sell you out. My mam's here, for Christ's sake. My nephew. If my leaving will keep them safe, for even just a little bit longer, I will gladly go." He meets Louis's eyes. "There's no way I can make you believe me, but I'm not like the rest of them. I wouldn't even be one of them if I hadn't been drafted. I'll go."

Louis nods. "Good."

"No," Bressie says. Everyone's heads whip in his direction. Louis actually growls a bit. Bressie stares at the tabletop in front of him, hands templed in front of his mouth. "He stays. If you stay, you can help us if the SFH do come. You know their methods, you know their tactics. You're more help in here than out there. If they come, so be it. But we'll have two of their own on the inside." He looks up at Niall. "You're staying."

Louis jumps up, pushing his chair back loudly. He says nothing, just stares at Bressie long and hard, then storms out. The air is tense when the door shuts behind him, and Bressie runs his hands down his face again.

"Maura," he says quietly. "Go see to him. Make sure he doesn't do anything reckless."

Maura goes to stand, but Niall outs out a hand, stopping her. She looks at him, confused. "I'll do it," he says. "His issue is with me; if I can figure out how to fix it then this can happen less often. It's the only way we'll get past this."

He doesn't wait for an answer before he follows Louis out the door.

*•*•*

Niall has to search the entire Compound before finding Louis on the beach. He'd gone through the little gap in the wall, and sits on the sand with his knees pulled up to his chin, arms wrapped around them. Niall approaches him slowly, part not wanting to startle him, part not wanting to talk to him at all.

He stops right next to Louis. "Mind if I sit?" he asks lightly.

Louis shakes his head minutely, staring out at the calm waves. Niall sees a small patch of water flowing around something invisible, as if a wall of glass were there. Louis, fooling around. Niall sits. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, when Louis speaks up.

"Do you know why I hate the SFH, Niall?" he murmurs, barely louder than the waves. He doesn't look away from the water. Niall shakes his head, brow furrowed. "It's because of my sisters. And my one brother. We, uh, we lived in Doncaster. It's in England, obviously," he scoffs at himself. His voice is low, rough. It's calmer than Niall has ever heard it, but also way more dejected. "I had six younger siblings, the youngest who would have been no older than Theo is now. I think, I'm not sure anymore. The point is," he trails off. "You know the chances of having a mutant kid are one in ten?" He laughs lightly. "One in ten. And my mum had _seven_. Seven mutant kids, by three different fathers. Now, unless these guys all had magical sperm, it had to be her.

"We'd been at the park one day, all of us. Mum and the two sets of twins and my two other sisters and my stepdad and I. All of us. It wasn't like any other day, because this park was very secluded. My mum and I had been looking for one like it for years, once we found out the younger twins were mutants, too. We just wanted a place where we could all be ourselves, you know? Home was too dangerous; it was an intimate neighborhood, even if the new house was quite big. Everyone knew everything about everyone. It was an honest miracle we hadn't been found out yet.

"But we needed to just let loose. It's - it's _hard_ , being able to do something but not being able to _do_ it, do you know what I mean?" He shakes his head. "We had these abilities, and yet because of some shit law we couldn't use them. So we found this park, my mum and I. It was in some article called _Twenty Parks You Could Shag In_ , or some shit; just a bunch of places in Yorkshire that were so secluded no one ever bothered going. So we went."

"Louis," Niall says quietly. Louis shakes his head.

"We went, and we were doing what we do. Lottie, she was a fuckin' _beast_ , yeah? She could like, change form. Be a rock or a tree or what-the fuck-ever. And Fizzy, jesus. Fastest little girl you'd ever seen. The older twins were literally yin and yang; Phoebe had this thing with fire and Daisy with water. Lot like Perrie and Jade, actually. But the younger twins. They were something. Could reach other's minds or something, and manipulate everyone else's thoughts. Like Professor X or something." He pauses, brow furrowed. "Ironic, innit, how we, as mutants, are outlawed all over the world, and yet when some American wanker writes a comic about mutants it's cool?" He shakes his head.

"Anyway. Long story short, turns out the article was bait. The park was SFH property, along with every other park in the damn thing, and there were twenty soldiers waiting for us. They ambushed us. We - we weren't ready for it. _I_ wasn't ready for it. They - they killed them all. The girls. Ernest. My mum and stepdad. Only reason I got away was cause of my mutation, you know, but. I should have been able to protect them. It's what I _do_ , for Christ's sake, and I -" he breaks off, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. Niall watches him swallow down a few tears, wide eyed.

"I hate the SFH because they think they own the world. They believe that just because they've got a few guns they can tell people who to be, _how_ to be. As if we can control our own fucking genetics." He shakes his head. "I protect the people here because I couldn't protect my own. I made myself a promise, no matter how fucking cliché it sounds, to do everything I can to protect the people who are like me. Who didn't have a choice in being different and are punished for it anyway. So it's not personal, really." He meets Niall's gaze. "Only it is."

And a sudden force grips Niall's neck, just like the first time only _worse_ , and throws him onto his back. The breath gets forced out of Niall's chest as Louis crushes his throat, and his fingers scramble for purchase against the invisible hand pushing him into the sand. Louis stays sitting where he is, passively looking on.

"I am sorry that I have to do this, Niall," he says, only it's muted by the blood beginning to pound in Niall's ears. "I promise I'll watch over your mum, and Theo. They're not a part of this, I'm not so daft that I don't realize that much."

"Louis," Niall tries to say, but all that comes out is a choked sound.

"It's quite painful, isn't it?" Louis grimaces. "There's really no other way to do this. Haven't got enough of a grasp on my abilities to just snap your neck, you see. Any other way would just as painful, if not more so. It'll be over soon, though, I promise."

As the edges of Niall's vision begin to blacken, he wildly remembers the gun hidden in his trousers. He reaches underneath himself, struggling to pull his shirt up so he can grab the gun. Louis's head tilts.

"What on earth..." He trails off, watching curiously.

Once Niall has finally got a good grip on the handle of the revolver, a dark figure appears in the corner of his gaze, blurred out by his lack of oxygen. He continues to choke, feeling frazzled and confused and like his head is going to _burst_ , when the figure comes into focus.

It's Liam, holding a gun of his own down along his torso, brows furrowed in confusion as he takes in the scene. It looks as if he's got his own bag, Niall notices groggily. His eyes grow into identical perfect circles when he realizes it's Niall being held down, and he raises his gun, aiming it at Louis's head.

Niall rips the gun out from his trousers, and Louis's eyes widen.

In a moment of panic, Niall pulls the trigger.

*•*•*

When Louis lets him go, Niall rolls over, coughing hard enough that it hurts almost as much as the choking did. He stays like that for a good amount of time, then turns around with watery eyes. Louis is gaping at him, breathing heavily with a hand pressed to his chest. His eyes are wide, and he looks shocked enough that if this were a normal situation, Niall would be laughing. Instead, he coughs some more, gripping his neck lightly. He looks past Louis, to where Liam is.

To where Liam is lying on the ground, bleeding out of the gunshot wound in his side. He's dropped his gun, it lying just out of his reach. Niall scrambles over, kicking it, and watches it skid across the sand. He crouches down next to Liam, who's staring at him, confused and betrayed.

"Niall?" he asks weakly. Niall chokes out a half sob.

"I'm so sorry, Li," he raps. "I couldn't let you shoot him, I - I'll explain when you're better, alright, but -" he coughs again, rough and dry enough to bring on even more coughing. "We need to get you to the infirmary right now, Li, _right now_." He slings Liam's arm around his shoulder, making sure he's on his uninjured side, and drags him up. Liam groans at the pain through gritted teeth, but Niall doesn't worry about that. He's an SFH soldier; he's been through worse at some point.

"Niall," Liam grits. "Did you just fucking _shoot_ me?"

Niall winces, both at Liam's question and at the pain in his throat. "We'll deal with that later, Li, but right now we need to get you to Jade." They stumble a few feet forward, past Louis, who's still gaping on the ground. Liam's steps are heavy, but he still manages to keep up with Niall.

He grunts when they make it to where the sand turns to grass. "Who the fuck is _Jade_?" On any other occasion, Niall would be rolling his eyes at Liam's endless questions, but right now he's glad that he's talking.

"Head of medical," he hoarsely. "Also, Harry is here, just to let you know."

He feels it when Liam's head whips towards him, and knows without a doubt that he's getting the strongest version of the Look™ ever, but he doesn't mind. As long as Liam doesn't collapse, because Niall doesn't have the energy for that right now. He'll probably still do it, because there have been tons of times when doing fieldwork that he felt like he 'didn't have the energy,' but he'll whine about it either way. They make it past the wall, and Niall sees a few passerby stop and stare curiously, not fully aware of what's going on.

"Get to Jade, tell her she needs to prep the infirmary for a surgery right now!" He says it as loud as he can, his throat scratching painfully, but it's enough to send a handful of people all running towards Town Hall.

He and Liam have made it halfway across the main square when Harry runs into view, a gurney rolling beside him. He falters for half a beat when he notices Liam hanging off Niall, but powers on anyway. When he's reached them, he and Niall work to slide his bag off his shoulder and set Liam down as gently but quickly as possible. Niall slings the bag onto his back.

"What the fuck?" Liam groans, struggling to keep his eyes open. Harry and Niall both take a railing in hand and start rolling it along quickly.

"Hi, Liam," Harry pants. "I'll explain, you know, eventually, but you need to get to the infirmary." He frowns down at the bullet wound, then at Niall. "Although I could ask the exact same question," he adds.

Niall coughs harshly. "I'll explain. You know, eventually."

*•*•*

Jade is in full surgical gear when they arrive, with a makeshift room made up by one of the beds. Laura, who meets them at the doors to the infirmary, explains that she set it up as quickly and stably as she could. They wheel Liam into the room, transferring him onto the hospital bed gently. He groans anyway, and stares blearily at Jade.

"I guess you're Jade," he mumbles. She barely gives him a second glance, wiping his skin with antibiotic wipes and hooking him up to various machines. She's just finished ripping his shirt open when she notices Harry and Niall just standing there.

"What the hell are you _doing_?" she snaps. "Niall, you need to wait outside; Harry, prep for surgery and come back, quickly."

They both scramble to as she says, moving so quickly they run into each other a total of three times.

*•*•*

Niall waits for two and a half hours, sitting on the bed adjacent to the little room, Liam's bag on the floor beside him, before Jade and Harry come back out, ripping off blood stained gloves. He stands quickly, walking over to them. Jade, looking quite a few years older with her hair pulled into a bun underneath a blue cap and a strict frown on her face, promptly places her hands on his throat. He gets a sudden vision of Louis doing the same, even though he knows that's not how it happened, and flinches. A rush of warmth floods his throat, as if he were drinking hot chocolate, and he coughs lightly, more out of relief that anything.

"Thanks," he says quietly. Jade just fixes him with a look. "How is he?"

"He'll be fine, no thanks to you," she snaps. "What the hell happened and who the hell is he?"

Niall sighs. "It's complicated."

Jade pulls her head back, affronted. "Oh, really?" She points to the room where Liam still lays. "You bring me a man I've never seen before, one who's been shot, while your own neck looks like someone wrapped a band around it and pulled like there was no tomorrow, and you say it's _complicated_?" She pushes him lightly. "Of fucking course it's complicated! What else is it with you but complicated, ever?"

Startled, Niall's gaze darts toward Harry, who looks properly reprimanded. He won't even lift his gaze from the floor.

Niall runs his hands over his face, sighing heavily. "He's SFH," he says, muffled behind his hands. Jade takes a sharp breath. "He's my First Lieutenant, and was on the same team as Harry and I. I don't know how he found me, but Louis and I were - um, sitting on the beach when he showed up. We - we fought, and - and he had a gun, so I took it and shot him."

Jade raises her eyebrows skeptically, hands on her hips. "Really? You do know we have security cameras along the border. What _happened_ , Niall?"

"Um," Niall grimaces. "I - I had a gun. From before; I didn't even realize it was in my bag until this afternoon. And um, it was actually Louis and I who were fighting, when Liam showed up. He was going to shoot Louis, so I shot him instead."

Reeling back in surprise, Jade's eyes dart between Niall and Harry. "You're joking, surely." She stares at Niall, hard. "You - you. I don't even -" she shakes her head roughly, throwing her hands up and walking away. She stays muttering under her breath unintelligibly, all the way to her desk at the very end of the room. She sits down hard, shuffling a stack of papers roughly. When she looks up and sees them still standing there, she yells, "Get out!"

They quickly take the steps to get to the landing above them, somewhat frazzled. They sit down heavily on the steps. Niall feels Harry turn to face him, and startles when Harry lightly places his hands on his chin, gently pushing his head back. He inspects Niall's neck, a deep furrow in his brow and a deep frown on his mouth. His fingers lightly run over where the mark must be on Niall's throat, and Niall shivers at the touch. He pulls away when he's satisfied, folding his hands together and letting them hang between his spread knees.

"So what happened?" he asks quietly. Niall, not in the mood to argue, explains everything, starting from the meeting with everyone right up to where he and Harry met up in the square. Harry shakes his head. "I can't believe Louis would do something like that. I mean, he's a twat, yeah, but it's only because of how much he wants to keep everyone safe. And - and Liam, well, obviously he would shoot someone if they were hurting you, he loves you, but. Why would _you_ shoot _him_?"

Niall shakes his head, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "If Louis got hurt in any way, then the war everyone kept mentioning would have started right then. I couldn't let that happen. He may be a pain in my arse, but I'm done seeing mutants get hurt because of me." He threads his fingers through his hair. "I just...I don't know. Maybe I wanted to show Louis that I'm not some SFH robot, or maybe I was just hoping I was hallucinating. Lack of oxygen does that, right?" He peeks at Harry, who shrugs.

"I guess," he says, making a face. Niall scoffs.

"Some paramedic you are," he mutters.

"Hey," Harry snaps. "I didn't exactly get all the medical training I should have, did I, considering where I was getting it from. All the SFH wanted was someone who knew how to work a medicine pack long enough to keep the death toll at a minimum; they weren't really preparing me for actual doctoring."

Dryly, Niall laughs, head still lowered. "What a fucking sob story you've got, Styles. Boy comes from a privileged family, but he wants to be a doctor, even though his parents are only willing to pay for law school."

"Niall," Harry says lowly, hurt.

"What I don't get is," Niall says over him, lifting his head. "What in god's good name made you think that the SFH, of all places, would be a good way to get to medical school?" He looks at Harry, incredulous. "Where did you get that idea from?"

Harry stares at him hard, chin wobbling slightly. "I'll have you know, Niall, that I'd been informed by a reliable source that the SFH sponsored medical students. Alright? They told me that it was like the American military; you enlist, you study whatever you want to major in, and you're a soldier, but you're also whatever you wanted to be. I enlisted, I studied for half a _fucking_ year, and then they dropped me into the little ragtag group you dared to call a team. You were a joke, Niall, and everyone knew it. The captain who fucking hates killing, how ridiculous is that?" He leans in, voice hard. "You were a joke then, and you're a joke now, and everyone around you can see that you've got some major _fucking_ issues, but you're too much of a coward to own up to them."

He leans in, kissing Niall hard. Niall gasps, flinching at the feel of their teeth clashing, and leans back against the banister. Harry follows him, kissing him as if he were going for the gold medal. He swings a leg over Niall's lap, straddling him, and grinds down. Niall groans, sinking into the kiss and feeling his prick swell with interest.

So much for never doing this again.

He grips Harry's hips roughly, feeling his medical scrubs crinkle underneath his fingers. He leans back against the stairs, barely registering how uncomfortable it is, as Harry fumbles for his flies. He goes through them quickly, pulling his cock out and palming it roughly.

It's quick, it's dirty, it's angry, and it's everything that it was back when they were doing this on a nightly basis. Niall comes with a hoarse cry pressed into Harry's mouth, and Harry follows not thirty seconds later, biting down on Niall's lips hard enough to bruise. They come down with their foreheads pressed together, breathing heavily, both their palms tacky with come.

Harry, always prepared as he is, pulls a small packet of antibiotic wipes out of his scrubs. Niall snorts, and Harry flashes a quick grin. "Always be prepared, right?"

"Yeah," Niall says, thinking his head back on the stairs. "You got that right, Scout Master Styles."

Making a face, Harry wipes them down. "Don't ever call me that," he laughs.

Niall just hums.

*•*•*

He visits Liam once Jade had calmed down enough to let them back in. The walls of the makeshift operating room are still up, closing them off and giving them some privacy. Liam is pale but otherwise fine, staring at the ceiling looking grumpy and confused. Niall can't help but feel a rush of fondness for the boy wash over him.

"Hey, Li," he says quietly. Liam's eyes dart to him, and his frown grows deeper.

"You shot me," he says petulantly. "The doctor said I won't be able to shit for a month because you _shot_ me."

Niall grimaces, slowly walking towards him. "I'm so sorry, mate, I had no choice."

Liam's brows jump. "You could have chosen to shoot the mutant who was trying to kill you."

Shaking his head, Niall leans against the bed. "No, actually. He was only trying to protect everyone here; it's his job."

"Don't fuck with me, Horan," Liam snaps. Everyone has been quite short today. "How does killing you protect everyone here? Why does everyone here need protecting anyway?"

"Well," Niall starts slowly. "This is a place for mutants who have gone into hiding. For anyone who's run from the SFH."

Liam's eyes widen. "Oh my god." He struggles to sit up, wincing and pressing a hand against his side. Niall straightens, ready to push him back down. He wonders why Jade hasn't healed him all the way through yet. If she will. "So you did desert your post! I've been trying to convince Higgins that you never would and yet here you are, with _Harry_ of all people, surrounded by a bunch of mutants who are aware that their very existence is against the law!"

"It's quite a dumb law, don't you think?" Niall asks weakly. Liam punches him. "Ow! Okay, listen, if I promise explain everything to you, will promise to be open minded? To be willing to hear everything I've got to say?"

Liam nods slowly, brows still pinched. Niall sighs.

"Okay." And he explains it all, from the note Greg sent him to his own conflict of stay or leave, from Theo being a mutant to his mam being here. He explains it all, right up to shooting him and why, conveniently leaving out his complex relationship with Harry. He shrugs when he's finished and Liam gapes at him.

"You're joking," he says. "This is all some sort of elaborate prank and you've got everyone in on it and -" he stops. "I thought you were in trouble! I took my own leave because I thought you were hurt or worse and all along you've been here." He shakes his head. "I can't believe this."

Niall frowns as a thought comes to him. "How'd you find me, anyway?" he asks curiously. Liam shrugs, laying back down.

"I traced your call, that day we spoke. Everything seemed really sketchy; I wanted to know what was going on." He looks at Niall. "Kind of regretting that now."

Niall straightens, getting off the bed. "Does anyone else know we're here?" he asks urgently.

Pulling a face, Liam shakes his head. "No. I was alone when I set up the trace, and I wasn't on base when I did it either. The only person who could possibly know is the lady from the front counter at the public library." He burrows further into the bed. "And I doubt she cares."

Shaking his head, Niall runs his hands through his hair. "I don't know what we're gonna do with you, Liam," he says, pacing. "If you stay, you're going to be charged with desertion same as me; if you leave, you're going to tell Higgins all about this place. Oh my god."

"And I don't get a choice in the matter?" Liam asks crossly. Niall shakes his head seriously.

"No, they have this - this council type thing. They'll decide what to do with you, after hearing what we've got to say." He sighs. "Honestly, just a week ago my life was normal; now it's like a bloody drama straight off the telly."

*•*•*

For the second time that day, Niall finds himself in the meeting room. Everyone is there, even Louis, who still looks shocked to his very core. He won't meet anyone's gaze, keeping his state locked on the table in front of him. Niall barely spares him a second glance.

Liam, newly and completely healed by Jade, sits by Niall, looking tense. He explains himself quickly - _was only looking out for Niall, I won't cause any trouble no matter what_ \- and Niall backs him up. Bressie looks between them, eyes wide and glistening. He looks like he's going to have a mental breakdown. Niall can't help but feel sorry for him.

When everyone's said their piece, Bressie temples his hands in front of his face again, and closes his eyes. "All in favor of asking Liam to stay," he asks, muffled by his hands. Niall looks around. Maura, Jade, Perrie, and surprisingly Louis have all raised their hands. Niall tries to meet Louis's gaze, but he keeps it locked onto the table.

Bressie doesn't even open his eyes. "All in favor of asking Liam to leave," he asks quietly. Willie, Zayn, Laura, and Lou raise their hands. Bressie sighs. "What's the count, Jade?"

"It's a draw again, love," she says gently. He winces.

"Okay," he says, breathing deeply. He runs his hands across his thighs once, twice, three times, then opens his eyes and stares straight at Liam. "You being here causes a _very_ big problem for us, chief." Niall can't help but feel a bit jealous. He'd only heard Bressie call him and Theo that; he didn't know it was universal. "The SFH are bound to go looking for you, too, now, and is having three former SFH soldiers on our premises is very risky. Especially when they all came off the same team. So here's what we're going to do: you're gonna stay, you're gonna keep your head down, you're gonna work in agricultural with Perrie. She'll be keeping an eye on you, reporting back your every move to me. If I hear that you have so much as farted in the wrong direction I will send you out on your arse -" here he starts to slowly grow, seeming not to notice it; everyone shrinks away slightly "- and I will make sure that you leave so damaged not even the world's best psychologist could bring you back and tell them where we are. If the SFH come knocking, believe me when I say that I will give you right to them in hopes of saving this place. You do as you're told, and you don't question your orders. Are we clear?"

Liam nods seriously. "Sir, yes, sir."

Bressie turns to Niall, who flinches under his intense gaze. "Zayn's going to be keeping an eye on you, Horan. If he tells me anything that sounds too suspicious you bet that I will do the exact same to you. I trust you more than your mate here, but only because you've got more to lose than he has. But I've got more to lose than any of you. This place is the most important thing that has ever happened to me, and to a lot of others here. You mess that up, you pay the price. You hear me?"

Niall nods. "I understand."

"Good," Bressie leans back, seeming less tense than before. He looks down at himself, then groans. "Ah, shite," he mutters. He shrinks back down to his normal size, and Niall notices Liam let out a deep breath. _That sounded heavy_ , he thinks. "Now," Bressie says, much more calmly than before, "where is Liam going to be settled?"

Then, to everyone's surprise, Louis raises his hand. "I've got space, Brez. I can house him," he says quietly, finally looking up. He doesn't even look at Niall, directs his gaze at only Bressie, who frowns.

"You want to house the same man who tried to kill you not four hours ago?" he asks incredulously. Louis shrugs.

"Think of it as a way to really keep an eye on him," he says steadily. "No one here hates the SFH more than I do; I'll be watching his every move when Perrie is busy. Obviously she won't be able to watch every second of the day; I can help out with that."

Liam cuts his gaze to Niall, worry evident in his eyes. Niall only shrugs.

Bressie nods, considering. "You tried to kill Niall; if you do the same to Liam, there's no more chances for you. You're out, and that's it. What happens to you after that is out of our hands. You understand?"

Louis nods. "More than you think."

"Alright then," Bressie stands. "That's settled."

*•*•*

That night, when Theo and Zayn are already in bed, a knock on the door startles Niall. He pads over carefully, not wanting to knock over any of Zayn's things, and looks through the peephole. It's Louis, holding a shoebox. Niall's brow furrows. He opens the door.

"Yes?" He asks quietly.

Louis looks at him, then holds out the box. "You left these on the beach." He says it in a small tone of voice, almost afraid. Niall doesn't understand. He opens the shoebox, almost drops it when he sees the two guns nestled inside. "Before you say anything," Louis starts, "I'm sorry. I was just doing what I thought was right for the Compound. To be honest, I didn't think you'd pull out a gun. But when you - when you shot your mate instead of me, I realized that maybe - maybe you're here for a reason, yeah? Maybe you're meant to protect this place, more than I am. Because if you were willing to shoot someone who's had your back for years over someone who's trying to kill you, it must be for a reason." He takes a step back, hands in his pockets. "I just hope it's a good one." He starts down the steps, turning slowly. "Don't let the kid get in reach of those, eh?"

And he walks off.

Niall closes the door softly, holding the box like a newborn child. He makes his way through Zayn's things and sits down on the couch, wondering why it is that Louis's suddenly changed his mind.

Like, of course Niall is here for a reason. That reason is to protect Theo. That's his only goal right now, is to make sure Theo is safe until he's old and wrinkly. Not to - to protect this place. Sure he'll help out if it becomes necessary, but. It's not why he's here. He can't protect these people anymore than Louis could protect his family when -

Niall sighs. He's just one guy. Two weeks ago he was living a life that was considered normal, exciting even. And now he's doing the exact opposite. He's working with the people he was trained to kill, to protect them against the people who trained him to kill. It's too much, he thinks. He's not enough. There's too much going on, all in one fucking week. Why did this have to happen to him?

He runs a finger over his initials carved into the wooden handle of his gun, thinking. He's not here to protect these people; he's here for something totally in his own interest. These people would be better off without him, and yet the most protective person here has just said that he might do a better job of it than anyone else. It makes no sense. How does someone go from killing mutants to protecting them?

Breathing deeply, Niall leans back against the couch, closing his eyes. He can't do this. This isn't for him. This isn't the life he was meant to lead.

He's going to keep his head down, from here on out. He's going to do his job when he's supposed to, and stay out of everyone's way when he's not. He's done. As long as Theo is safe, he's got nothing else to do.

He has officially retired from his position as a 'protector.'


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sunshine," she smiles sweetly, threading a hand through his hair. "You've been given a gift; why wouldn't I be okay? Nothing is going to happen to you, alright? Not as long as I'm alive." Her smile fades, just enough, but her eyes are serious.
> 
> "Not while I'm around."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is literally just people doing stuff so please don't expect too much out of it
> 
> sorry it's been so long i kind of hit a bump in life so...i did it for the cake

**What Happened**

"Zayn?" His mum calls, coming down the halls. Zayn pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn't want to talk to her, is the thing. Doesn't want to have to explain what just happened. "Zayn, it's okay, I'm not mad."

He scoffs, then claps a hand over his mouth. There's a pause outside the door, then the sound of footsteps coming towards him. He sighs, then watched as the door is pulled open.

Trisha laughs, startled. "Isn't hiding in the closet a bit drastic, love?" She sighs when he just stares at her, the nods. "Shove over, then."

She sits next to him, hovering lightly on the rack of towels, and folds her hands together. They sit in a tense silence for a few moments, until Zayn sighs. He leans into her, nudging their shoulders together. It's like a small hole in a balloon, the way the tension deflates from their shoulders. Trisha sighs, and wraps an arm around him.

"Why are you upset, sunshine?" she murmurs. Zayn shakes his head, burrowing his face into her neck. Tutting, she squeezes him briefly. "None of that, now. Tell me what's going on."

Zayn bites his lip again, and sniffles, embarrassed. He digs his hands further into his jacket pockets, and Trisha catches on. She makes a noise of interest and lightly tugs at his arms. When he fights, she strengthens her grip and says his name firmly. He squeezes his eyes shut and relents. She pulls his hands up to her eye level and laughs softly.

"You're upset about paint, Zayn?" she asks quietly. "It's not the first time you've spilled some on the carpet; nothing a bit of washing up won't fix." She ducks her head down, trying to catch his eye. He shakes his head. Laughing, she rubs her thumb over his palm, trying to wipe away the paint, and she freezes. Zayn cringes. "Zayn," she says quietly, "why won't this come off?"

Zayn sniffs again, and pulls back. Breathing shakily, he lightly touches his fingertip to her jean-clad knee. She inhales sharply when a burst of color floods out from the point of contact, as of water were flowing onto it. He wills the colors to change quickly, so a rainbow covers her knee in an inky splatter. Sniffing dryly, he takes his finger back, curling a fist around it. Zayn can feel his mum staring at him, and he braces himself for her wrath.

"You're - you're gifted?" she breaths. He whips his gaze to her, eyes wide. "Why didn't you tell me, love, this is - this is great! You've got one of those special abilities, the kind -"

"The kind people get killed for, mum," he says, confused. "The kind that makes you an outlaw."

Trisha waves her hand dismissively. "How long have you known for?" she asks seriously. He shrugs, and her expression grows stern. "Zayn?"

He sighs. "Just now. S'why I ran from you, cos I was scared. Didn't want to get you in trouble."

"So," she says slowly, "so the paint on the carpet in the living room isn't - paint?" Trisha laughs, amazed. "That was you?"

Zayn nods slowly. "Are you okay, mum?" he asks. "Shouldn't you be, like, panicking or something? I could _die_!" He says the last part a bit wildly, his mother's laughter growing infectious.

"Sunshine," she smiles sweetly, threading a hand through his hair. "You've been given a gift; why wouldn't I be okay? Nothing is going to happen to you, alright? Not as long as I'm alive." Her smile fades, just enough, but her eyes are serious.

"Not while I'm around."

**What's Going On**

Zayn watches the kids walk out of the room, talking amongst themselves. They've been flocking to Niall's music classes for the past couple of days, and it's evident in the way they're all playing air guitar. Zayn smiles fondly.

He moves around he tables with ease, the layout engrained into his brain, as if it were his own home. Well, it is now, isn't it. He's been here for years; if it's not his home by now then what else can it be?

Zayn is startled out of his thoughts when Niall coughs awkwardly. He looks up at him from where his fingers have been creating aimless patterns on the wood of the table he's tidying. Niall is resting his weight on what Zayn's learned is his good knee, gnawing on his hand. It's a bad habit, Zayn thinks, but then he himself smokes half a pack a day.

"Could I ask you a question?" he asks. Zayn shrugs. "Um, so - so Liam and I were talking the other day, and um, you know, we were wondering just why, exactly, you voted for me to stay and him to leave if. If we're practically the same person, and bring the same risk to this place." His cheeks are flushed, as if he were embarrassed. He probably is; they haven't had a real conversation in days.

Zany shrugs again. "You're not the same person," is all he says. Niall's brow furrows, and he hefts up his guitar, which he used for the first time today, and sets it into its case, snicking it closed.

He shakes his head. "We are though; raised in almost the same way, both drafted into the SFH, both literal murderers. The only difference is I'm Irish and he's not."

Exhausted, Zayn runs a hand over his face. "What is with you and this awful need to be hated?" he groans. "What happened happened, alright, it's done, no one cares anymore. You're here now, just - shut up about it and get on with your life."

Niall stares at him, startled. "But -"

Zayn holds up a hand, cutting him off. "I'm heading over to the canteen; wanna come?" He jerks his thumb at the door.

Perplexed, Niall shakes his head. "Uh, no, actually," he stammers. "I've gotta go pick up Theo; me mam's gotta go on that trip with Bressie, so." Bobbing his head, he sucks his teeth. "Maybe I'll meet you there, though."

"Cool," Zayn nods, and leaves the room, Niall still staring after him.

*•*•*

"You're kidding, right?" Perrie scoffs. "No." She turns away from him from where she's kneeling, peering into a box of wheat. She marks something on the clipboard she's holding.

Rolling his eyes, Zayn kneels down next to her, ignoring when she inches away. "Pez, you owe me one," he says lowly.

She groans quietly. "Don't remind me. And stop calling me Pez." Standing and dusting her hands on her trousers, she moves to another shelf, checking the contents of all the boxes. At some she hums discontentedly, and at the others she just nods.

"But you do," Zayn repeats, taking a step closer. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye, features twisted in a disgusted manner. Hands raised, he steps back again. "You owe me a favor, and now I'm calling it in. All I'm asking is for a box of cake mix; I'm sure you can spare me that much."

Perrie sighs, turning to face him reluctantly. "Zayn, foods that come from outside need to be rationed much more carefully than the stuff we grow here. Cake mix is for special occasions, only. Just make one from scratch." She shrugs. "I can't do anything for you. If it were anything else, maybe, but. Not this one."

Desperate, Zayn pulls out the last card he has. "I'll say sorry to Jade." He bites at his lip as Perrie's eyes narrow slowly. She stares at the box of apples in front of her for a moment, then slowly turns on her heels to face him.

"Will you?" She eyes him, scrutinizing. Zayn knows what she wants to hear; it's what she's been saying since the issue first arose.

He nods. Even though it's the last thing he wants to do, he will. "It'll be sincere and everything. I'll write it out if you want me to."

Tilting her head curiously, Perrie turns back to her boxes and clipboard. She tries to seem nonchalant as she talks, but Zayn sees right through her. "What's so special that you need a box of cake mix before your allotted time?" she asks. "Your birthday isn't until January, the kids don't celebrate in your class, and even Niall's birthday isn't for another month. Why do you need it?"

Zayn shrugs. "Niall mentioned that his mate's is coming up; wanted them to be able to celebrate properly."

Perrie scoffs. "Well then Niall could've approached me himself." She shakes her head and mutters to herself, "I love the lad, I do, but Lord knows he acts like we're all trying to kill him in his sleep." Sighing, she glances at Zayn again. "Why didn't he come to me on his own?"

"Well," Zayn starts, "that's actually sort of why. He's too cautious, wants to make sure he doesn't put even one hair out of line. I mean, he doesn't even talk to me during dinner, whether we're in the canteen or at the flat. He doesn't know how to act, what to say. I was just thinking that, you know, maybe if I do something to show that we're not enemies, he'll loosen up. I'm just trying to make things more pleasant for the two of us, is all."

Brows furrowed, Perrie moves on to the next shelf. "You think giving him a box of cake mix will fix that? And if he can't bake? You've got a lot of loose ends here, Zaynie, I hope you know." Exhaling sharply, she scribbles something onto her clipboard, then turns back to him. "Apologize to Jade, and when she tells me it's done, I'll give you the cake mix. Until then, I can't do anything." She frowns. " _Won't_ do anything."

With a determined nod, she meets his gaze. "Apologize, and I'll see what I can do."

*•*•*

So Zayn apologizes. It really is the last thing he wants to do, but with a box of cake mix and a possible end to feeling out of place in his own home on the line, he'll do what he has to. _It'll be easy,_ he reasons with himself. _Just say sorry and you're done. That's all._

He finds Jade in the infirmary, as per, and looks around the big room. There's no one else around, no patients or Harry. Good. He'd rather do this with no one else watching.

As he approaches her desk, he finds himself thinking back to when Harry was first admitted. He hadn't told anyone where he came from, or how he found out about them. Just had a sad, doe-expression plastered onto his face as he explained that all he wanted was a place where there was no killing, no violence. Bressie took him in in a heartbeat once he found out about Harry's medical experience, stuck him with Jade without so much as a vote with the Council.

It had surprised Zayn, just because Bressie is usually a lot more cautious about just who he lets on. Did a whole fucking background check on Zayn when he first showed up. Kept him in Town Hall for a week before he thought Zayn was okay.

Probably because he was livid with anger, snapping at everyone who so much as looked at him sideways. He'd been seething; it was right after his mum had almost been killed because an SFH officer thought he saw something fishy. The woman had reached for her gun and shouted at Trisha, was only a few moments away from shooting her. If Zayn hadn't heard the commotion and run outside, she would have been killed. The only way he could get the officer to back off was by revealing himself as a mutant by knocking her out with a shock of color to the face.

Then he and his mum ran inside, packed him a bag, and got him on the road.

Zayn shakes his head, sending off his wild train of thought, and lightly taps Jade's desktop. She's bent over a messy stack of papers, leafing through them with a pen in hand. It's inventory day, all around the Compound, with all the Heads taking stock and writing down what they have, what they need, what they want if the resources allow. Zayn's already done his; the recreational department is a small one, only really used by the kids for their free period. The adults tend to handle their free time themselves, taking to their own to get themselves situated. All Zayn has to worry about is a bunch of art supplies, and now the instruments, of course. Niall had asked for a bunch of music books, for beginners and whatnot. He'd written it down on the request form, but his hopes aren't high. They make some cash by selling any extra crops they've got at a farmers' market nearby, but it's not a lot. What they get goes to necessary items, such as clothes, food, medicine.

Startled, Jade looks up. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, thin reading glasses perched low on her nose. She looks like a librarian, Zayn muses. Her eyebrows jump; she must be surprised to see him.

"Hi," she says slowly. She pulls off her glasses. "You hurt?"

Pressing his lips together, he shakes his head. Rocking on his feet, he shapes his words in his head, trying to figure out how they'll come out his mouth. "I'm sorry." Zayn sighs when Jade's eyebrows jump up even higher, as if trying to disappear into her hairline. "It's just - I haven't really been the nicest person, to you, since you and Pez started dating. I was - upset, I guess, just cause we'd been together for so long, and I was surprised. It's silly, but I kind of thought we'd be together for, like, ever, I guess. Um, so yeah. I was angry with you and I shouldn't have been. So I'm sorry." He nods decisively.

Jade sits back slowly, her chair creaking. "Wow," she says. "Wasn't expecting that, not even a little bit. Um, thank you. Really. It means a lot to me that you said that." She smiles softly. "Too bad I can't heal a broken heart, eh?" At Zayn's grimace, she snorts. "Too soon, maybe." She stands, adjusting her medical coat on her shoulders. "Thank you, Zayn. It was very kind of you, and I accept your apology." She nods firmly, then turns to a closet behind her. Halfway through the door, she turns back. "If you didn't need anything else, I'm sorry, but I've got to take inventory and whatnot."

Zayn shakes his head. "No, no, you're good. I'll see you later." He gives a small wave and heads out of the infirmary, feeling as if a weight has been lifted off his chest.

Which is dumb, because he only apologized for the cake.

*•*•*

Niall is playing with Theo when Zayn gets back to the flat, throwing toys at him so Theo can make them fly around. It's a sight, definitely, seeing the kid just scrunch his face up and make something float in the air.

When the door shuts behind him, both boys whip their heads in his direction, startled. Theo's grin grows, while Niall's drops just a tad. Zayn has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. They haven't been getting along much since Niall moved in, mainly because he refuses to let himself be integrated into the familial dynamic of the Compound. He does his work, he eats in the canteen, and he goes home, where he steadfastly ignores Zayn. It's been a bitch, to say the least. They can't have a simple conversation because of Niall's insistence on making their coexistence tense and awkward. He sees himself as some unredeemable murderer, which he sort of is, and will hear nothing of the opposite.

It's annoying.

"How're you?" Zayn asks politely. He makes his way through the mess of art supplies and, since their moving in, toys all over the floor and sets his bag down on the couch. He follows it, throwing himself down and sighing in relief as he sinks into the cushions.

Niall nods. "Good. Been trying to get the kid to do something other than make toys fly, but. It's a work in progress." To further prove his point, he tosses what Zayn knows is Theo's favorite, a stuffed tiger that's missing an eye. When Theo sees it coming at him he just stares at it, a half grin on his round face, and it stops, turning over in midair. Thrilled, Theo shrieks in laughter, clapping.

"Niii!" he laughs. "Loo' wha've done!" He places his hands flat on the floor, pushing himself up, and toddles over to where the tiger is still in the air. He gives it a light push, laughing again when it floats across the room. Zayn smiles.

"You ever notice how he always calls you Ni?" he asks idly, scratching at his ear. Niall's face lights up.

"Yeah. Been calling me that since he could talk; s'better than Nail. S'what my brother called me for the longest." He scratches at his nose. "And it's Niii, actually. It's gotta be drawn out, otherwise he doesn't know who you're talking about."

Delighted, Zayn sits forward. Now they're getting somewhere. "Really? It's never just the one beat?"

Niall shakes his head, laughing. "Watch." He clears his throat, and taps at Theo's stomach. "Hey, kid, where's Ni?" They watch in silence as Theo just stares at Niall, eyes wide. "Ni, where is he?" When Theo just stares on, not understanding, Niall smothers a laugh. "Where's Niii, Theo?"

Theo's face lights up as he points to Niall. "You!"

Zayn and Niall burst into laughter, and Theo joins in. Niall's laugh is loud, a staccato noise that is literally just _hahaha_ over and over, and Zayn never thought it would be possible, but even his laugh sounds Irish. It makes him laugh harder, Niall's laugh so contagious. They laugh until they've got tears in their eyes and their stomachs are cramping up, and then laugh some more. Eventually, Zayn tries to gasp in some breath, but every time he remembers Theo's excitement he starts laughing again.

"God," he gasps, leaning over on the couch. He wipes away the tears that are just can't seem to stop, and chokes out another laugh. Coughing, he sits up as much as he can. "I didn't think that would actually work. Oh, wow, I'm actually crying."

Niall just laughs harder, his face pink and the flush creeping down into his shirt. He pulls Theo to him, hugging him tightly, and Zayn watches as they wrestle, calming down enough that his laughs are no more than soft chuckles. He freezes when he hears a rough noise coming from Niall, shirt halfway to his eyes to wipe away the last tears. He looks up at Niall, who's clutching Theo to him tightly, sobbing into his hair. Zayn looks around the room, eyes wide.

He's used to people crying, in an abstract way. He has three sisters, who were all very teary in their own respects. But he's never had a brother, or anyone who came close enough to be one. His cousins lived too far away for them to really get that connection, his friends were never in tune with their emotions. Zayn has experience with teary women, not grown men who are clutching babies that look extremely confused and uncomfortable.

Shifting on the couch, Zayn clears his throat. "Um, Niall?" he asks quietly. "Are you okay?"

A choked laugh escapes Niall's throat, and he looks up, eyes wild. His face is red with tears now, and it's such a contrast to how he was not two minutes ago that Zayn almost gasps. " _Okay?_ Not really, like, my brother's dead and he's left me with his kid and my mam just reappeared after years of me thinking she hated me or was dead and I can't go back to my old life that I hated anyway and my best mate is here but I'm pretty sure he hates me too and _god_ , what am I going to do?" He says it all through teary hiccups, his accent going thicker than Zayn's ever heard it.

Zayn lowers himself onto the floor, gently pries Theo out of Niall's arms. Niall makes a soft noise of protest, sniffing sadly. Patting at Theo's back, Zayn murmurs a, "Go on, lad, go." They watch as Theo toddles off, stubby legs taking him only so far before he finds a toy he's truly interested in.

"You know his birthday was last month?" Niall asks quietly, voice croaky. "Just turned three, and he doesn't even know it. I'm not - made for this, parenting. It's not -" he stops, burying his face into his hands. Rubbing roughly at his face, he sniffs in hard. "Sorry, sorry. You didn't need to see that. It's my problem, all of it; shouldn't be dumping it on you."

Zayn shrugs. "I'm used to it; got three sisters who had no concept of personal space. It's fine."

Niall shakes his head, sniffing again. "No, no, if there's one thing I learned in training that wasn't utter bullshit, it was that you shouldn't place your burdens on the shoulders of someone who never asked for them. Emotional or not." He swallows, making to stand, but Zayn pulls him back down. "Zayn, I'm not gonna sit here and braid your hair while we talk about our deepest fears, okay? Not in the mood."

"Then don't," is what Zayn says, and he yanks at Niall's shirt hard enough to send him toppling back to the floor. "My hair's not long enough anyway. Just. Start at the beginning, yeah? With everything you said. Your brother's dead, and I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure you haven't grieved properly. You've been here for like, three weeks now? And you've never even mentioned his name. That's not healthy."

Scoffing, Niall shoves his hand into his mouth, starts biting at his nails. "Maura always said I had unhealthy coping mechanisms. I'm fine."

Eyebrows raised, Zayn looks pointedly over at Theo, who's got a big wet spot on his shirt collar from Niall's tears. "Not from where I'm standing. Sitting. Whatever." He leans forward. "Point is, mate, your mum's right. You gotta talk about this."

Niall shakes his head. "My brother's dead and I'm pissed, alright? He left me with his kid who I barely know and I have no idea what I'm supposed to with him, especially when he's the very thing I've been programmed to hate. And I'm pissed because I'm not sad, understand? I don't feel _anything_ about Greg or Denise dying, and why? They were my family, for feck's sake, and I'm not crying cos they're gone. I'm crying cos they didn't tell me what I should do." He swipes at his nose roughly. "My mam never wrote to me once, after I got drafted. We got three holidays a year, and I never went home for any of them because Bobby was always working and Greg was with Denise and Maura never wrote me. Never answered my letters. Didn't tell me what she was. I can't go back to my life because I'm an outlaw now, and I hated it anyway so why _would_ I go back. And now Liam's here, and he only talks to me when he absolutely has to. Everyone here hates me." He shakes his head, standing. "There. I'm going to get the kid ready for bed."

Zayn's brow furrows. "It's barely eight!"

"Did I stutter?" Niall snaps, swinging Theo up into his arms. He slams his bedroom door shut behind him and doesn't talk to Zayn for the rest of the night.

*•*•*

Niall starts when a box of cake mix is thrown into his lap the next day. He looks up to find Zayn standing in front of him, giving him a meaningful look. Niall just can't decipher the meaning.

"What's this?" he asks, sarcastically excited. Zayn rolls his eyes, sitting down next to him on the couch.

"Your mate's birthday is coming up, yeah? S'for him," he explains. "Thought maybe you'd want to celebrate. Get some normalcy back in your life."

Brows raised, Niall picks up the box and flips it over, idly reading the instructions on the back. "A normal birthday celebration back at base would have been one shot of vodka for every year you've been alive, then one shot at a target for every year. The better your shot count the higher up you went on the scoreboard."

Zayn sighs. "You're- so weird, honestly." He runs a hand over his face, letting out a small scoff. "You shouldn't say stuff like that, you know. There are some people who would have a much louder opinion than me, so. Don't - mention your time in the force unless it's relevant. Like, really relevant." He shakes his head. "You're welcome, by the way. For the cake."

Niall nods. "Thanks."

Zayn nods, running his hands over his thighs. "So, got any plans for today? It's Saturday; don't have to teach at the rec center."

Twisting his lips, Niall inspects the box further. He's not really reading it, just can't seem to take his eyes off it. "Think I'm gonna bake a cake."

*•*•*

He calls Harry over, just because he's no good at baking and Harry used to go on for hours about how he used to work at a bakery _blah blah blah_. Harry seems pretty excited about it, coming over in no time.

"Alright, it says three eggs, but I like to do four, to make the batter creamier," he says, peering at the instructions. Niall's brow furrows.

"Wouldn't, like, butter or something make it creamier?" he asks.

Harry gives him a look. "No."

He doesn't say anything else on the subject after that, giving Niall instructions and shoving him aside when Niall messes up. When Niall goes to blend the mix with Zayn's electrical whisks - which Niall doesn't understand why he has them, seeing as the most complex meal Zayn has ever made was eggs and waffles - Harry tuts and wraps his arms around Niall's shoulders.

"You're holding it wrong, babe," he says into Niall's ear. Niall can feel his face going hot, wonders if Harry can feel it too. "It's got to go at an angle so that all the mix doesn't go everywhere, like this -" he maneuvers Niall's hands until he's satisfied, making a small pleased noise. He flicks the whisks on, and leads Niall's hands in slow circles around the bowl. "Gotta make sure everything gets mixed well; don't want powdery chunks in Liam's birthday cake, right?" His voice is low, almost breathy, right next to Niall's ear.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Niall leans back into Harry's chest slightly. "You know, Zayn's left to go hang with a mate, and a cake does take an hour to bake well. We're gonna have some free time on our hands, and no one else is here..." He trails off, face blazing, hoping Harry catches the hint and doesn't comment on Niall's brazenness.

He can feel Harry's grin where it presses against his neck. "Getting a bit confident, aren't we?" he laughs. "And it takes an hour and a half, Niall, get it right."

Niall lets out a shaky laugh, letting Harry control the movement of their hands. "Promise I won't cry, this time." It's a tense subject, between the two of them, but hopefully if he makes a joke about it won't be such a big deal.

He's right, he notes, when Harry snorts. "Oh, I'll be making you cry, all right," he murmurs. "Just not in the way you're talking about."

The words send shivers down Niall's spine.

*•*•*

When Zayn gets back to the flat, it smells of cake and sex. It's such a strange combination that he doesn't quite realize the latter until he walks into the kitchen and sees Harry and Niall frosting a cake, both shirtless. Niall's got love bites scattered around his pale chest, and Harry's got a smug grin. Zayn watches as he presses a thumb to a particularly angry mark on Niall's neck, watches as Niall goes red and shivers.

"It's gotta say happy birthday, Niall, otherwise it's not a proper cake," Harry laughs. He grabs some sort of icing wand out of Niall's hands - Zayn doesn't know where they got it from - and nudges him out of the way with his hip. "Watch the master, Niall, and see if you can learn something worth knowing."

Zayn snorts, unable to keep it in. The two boys both whirl around to face him, wild expressions on their faces. Niall looks panicked, scared, and Harry just looks awkward and embarrassed. He keeps cutting glances at the blond standing next to him.

"Um," Zayn laughs, running a hand over his face. "I really hope you two didn't just shag in the kitchen; that's _so_ unsanitary."

If it's possible, Niall's face grows even more red. He's already started chewing on his nails, that awful habit that makes Zayn want to smack his hand down. He won't meet Zayn's gaze, and he seems to be shifting so that Harry's is standing in front of him.

Harry laughs tensely, and he's moving as well, blocking Niall from Zayn's point of view. "Uh, no, promise. There was nothing, um, _unsanitary_ happening in here. So, yeah." He turns, half glancing at Niall behind him. "We're almost done with the cake, but it should probably cool just a bit more before we finish icing it, so...c'mon, Niall, let's go."

He grabs Niall's hand, dropping the ice wand onto the counter, and drags him out of the kitchen and into Niall's room. He closes the door behind him, sending Zayn once last weak smile before it's shut all the way. Zayn can hear them talking to each other in low voices, one voice sounding panicked and the other soothing.

Now, Zayn is not a nosy person by nature. He fully believes in letting peoples' business stay their own, but this. This is something unexpected, and it is going on in his own home. So. He slowly approaches the door, and the boys' voices grow slightly clearer.

"Niall, he's not going to say _anything_ , I swear, okay," he hears Harry whisper calmly.

Niall, Zayn guesses, makes a noise. "Oh, really? Harry, the guy _hates_ me, okay, anyone can see it, and what if he does say something, okay, what if he says it in passing without thinking that anyone will think anything of it, yeah?" He's whispering furiously, his voice cracking with emotion. "What if he tells Maura, what am I going to do then? _God_ , what if - what if she takes Theo from me - Harry he can't say anything!"

Biting his lip, Zayn slowly backs away from the door. Damn. He knew Niall had issues, but he didn't know they went this deep. He sighs, and heads into his own room. He settles on his bed, perched on the very edge, feeling all the emotions from when he was a kid coming back in a wave.

He'd had to come out twice, practically, and both times he'd felt like he was the biggest disappointment two parents could have, Muslim or not. His mother had been understanding about the gay and mutant thing, but his dad. He'd been disappointed about the former, Zayn knows. Always wanted him to marry a nice Muslim girl, always had a lot of hope for him, in his own words, to carry on the family name. The mutant thing he'd been intrigued by, but. It had hurt, when he'd come out the first time.

He remembers having nightmares of his parents kicking him out on the street, of his friends shunning him at school. It had taken a trip to the school counselor to get him to finally calm down, and even then Zayn still worried. Didn't bring any boys home for his family to meet, didn't let any of his friends find out, for the longest time.

Zayn falls onto his back, hands over his face. He'd thought all he had to do was bring Niall out of his little introverted shell, but. Maybe he should talk to Niall about that too. See if he can help in any way. It's his natural instinct, to want to help someone, can only be after having two younger sisters come home crying at least once a school semester.

He doesn't come out of his room when he hears Niall's room door open, when he hears them talking quietly in the kitchen. He doesn't come out for the rest of the night, just sketches dozens of pictures of anything that comes to mind.

Comes up with a plan to help Niall get through his issues, mainly because he's not interested in living with someone who probably can't sleep at night, if they're anything alike. And Zayn decides that maybe overcoming his fear and distrust of mutants isn't the only thing Niall should be working on. And he decides that he'll help him with that. And he decides that getting Niall to accept the one thing about himself he can't change.

If other people have to deal with being something that can get them killed, legally, then Niall is going to have to learn to deal with being gay.

It's only fair, really.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No matter what, though, we'll find out. And we'll find him. Don't you worry about that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idkkk

**What Happened**

Leigh Anne exhales deeply, running her hands over her thighs nervously. _It's been hours_ , she thinks. _Why aren't the results out yet?_

Jesy nudges her knee with her foot. "Stop fidgeting, I will literally kill you," she says darkly. She's laying on the bench, knees drawn up, and she's got an arm slung over her eyes. Leigh Anne would do the same, these lights are insanely bright, but she's too nervous to stay still for too long.

"Sorry," she mutters. Liam looks up at her from across the room.

"We all feel the same, Leigh, don't worry," he smiles. Shrugging, he rests his elbows on his knees. "I might actually be much more worried than you, so."

Leigh Anne gives him a face. "Shut up, Payne." She turns to Niall, sitting in the corner with Harry. Harry's arm is slung around Niall's shoulder, their ankles are intertwined, and Niall looks about ready to jump out of his skin. When he meets Leigh Anne's gaze, he yanks his ankle underneath his chair and scoots slightly away from Harry. Leigh Anne raises her brows, but doesn't comment. "How're you two feeling, then?" she asks.

Harry shrugs. "I'm feeling quite confident. Never failed a test before; not likely to fail this one."

Liam makes a face. "This isn't a test based on what you _know_ , Harry," he says. "This is a test based on something you've no control over. Your mental stability isn't something you can help."

"Okay, Liam," Harry answers, a slight smile on his face. "Pretty sure I'm mentally stable, but whatever."

Jesy scoffs. "You take three hours to say _'no, thank you, I would not like an apple pie with my cheeseburger.'_ That's not a sign of mental stability."

Affronted, Harry opens his mouth to reply, but suddenly the door at the end of the small waiting room swings open. Colonel Higgins is there, holding a tablet. He stands there for a moment, silent and stoic, then shakes his head and sighs. "As you know," he says, "the test is rated on a scale of one to fifteen hundred. The higher your score, the more mentally stable you are. We'll be going in reverse order, lowest rank to highest."

They all nod. It's common knowledge that the scores and diagnoses are read aloud for all to hear; it's supposed to build trust between teams or something. Bullshit, in Leigh Anne's opinion.

"Sergeant Styles," he starts, "you've been given a score of fifteen hundred, with no other diagnoses. Congratulations." Harry sends a smug grin in Liam's direction, who just nods seriously.

"Sergeant Nelson, you've been given a score of fourteen fifty, with a diagnosis of minor OCD." Higgins looks up at Jesy, where she's still lying down. She could be asleep, if not for the anxious way she's bouncing her legs on her toes. She nods, eyes still covered.

"Alright," Higgins says. "Second Lieutenant Pinnock. You've been given a score of fourteen thirty-seven, with a diagnosis of minor anxiety and occasional night terrors." Leigh Anne nods, chin held high. The only person who'd known about that before was Jesy, but oh well. It is what is.

"First Lieutenant Payne," and here Liam sits up a little straighter, "you've received a perfect score of fifteen hundred as well. Well done."

Liam, obviously relieved, nods. "Thank you, Colonel."

Higgins barely spares him a glance. "Captain Horan," he says slowly. His expression is grave, and Leigh Anne's stomach sinks. "You've received a score of ten fifty, with a diagnosis of severe anxiety, minor OCD, common night terrors, and minor depression." He takes a deep breath. Leigh Anne glances at Niall, watches as he stares at the wall opposite him with a slow flush creeping along his cheeks. His hands are curled into fists on his knees, his jaw clenched. "This is, of course, a failing score." The flush starts making its way down his neck, furiously red. "Protocol says you are to be discharged immediately. But, because you are such a great soldier and asset, you will be given a chance to retake the exam. Meet with your counselor to schedule another appointment."

He nods one last time. "Good day."

**What's Going On**

"I am not taking orders from some Aussie with split ends and a bad dye job," Leigh Anne snaps. Captain Irwin raises his brows.

"I'm of a higher rank, _Lieutenant_ , and have given you a direct order. You will follow it," he says.

Growling, Leigh Anne takes a step forward, but Colonel Higgins step in. "Pinnock, you need a new team. Your captain and first lieutenant have both deserted; you can't sit around and wait for them to come back."

Leigh Anne whirls on him, glaring so fiercely he actually takes a step back. "Niall and Liam would never just leave, okay, something must have happened!"

Higgins narrows his gaze. "You will speak to me with respect, Lieutenant. And you _will_ be taking orders from Captain Irwin. You and Sergeant Nelson have been placed under his command; I better get excellent reports on your behavior from him."

And he walks off. Irwin opens his mouth to say something, but Leigh Anne turns on her heel, spitting a sour "Fuck off," and heading back to her housing unit. She finds Jesy sleeping, and sighs. She'll just fume in silence then. Dropping herself onto the couch lightly, so as not to disturb Jesy, she draws her knees up and grabs her tablet off the coffee table. It's state of the art, government issued, and every soldier gets one upon completion of training. It's a gift, so to speak, because you never really need it but they require that everyone have one.

Leigh Anne unlocks it and goes straight to her news app. Unsurprisingly, her three teammates are headlining once more. Niall, Harry, and Liam's pictures are all lined up at the top of the screen, with the words _**WANTED, ARMED AND DANGEROUS, DO NOT APPROACH**_ plastered across. She runs a hand over her face and opens up the latest article.

It's more of the same, just explaining the circumstances and when each of them left. The writer goes a little more into detail about Niall's 'traitorous family' but keeps it simple otherwise. They left one by one, they're considered rogue agents, they're traitors of their own kind, et cetera et cetera.

Leigh Anne tosses the tablet aside and brings a hand up to her mouth. She starts gnawing on her nails, a bad habit she picked up from Niall. As she stews in her anger, she tries to think of ways to get in touch with the three boys. Their phones don't work anymore, have been going straight to that automated message, and their emails are monitored, so she won't risk it. She shakes her head as she realizes there's nothing to be done. They'll come back on their own, if they ever do.

If they're even alive.

"Stop thinking, I can't sleep," Jesy groans, turning over. She stretches her legs, feet landing in Leigh Anne's lap. Leigh Anne's hand drops to Jesy's socked feet, lightly massaging the soles. Jesy groans again, much quieter. "What's got you in a twist, then?"

Shaking her head, Leigh Anne leans back against the couch. She feels her braids rustle underneath her neck, and sighs. She should brush them out, maybe. Maybe not. They still look great. Anyway.

"We've been transferred to Irwin's team," she explains. "Higgins said we'll be taking orders from him from now on." She can't help the bite in her words. "That - that shithead Aussie is going to be giving us commands. As if he has any authority over - he's not even British!"

Jesy snorts, toeing Leigh Anne's thigh. "Relax, yeah? 'S not like we're staying for too long."

Leigh Anne frowns. "What."

Stretching leisurely, much like a cat, Jesy turns over on the couch again, onto her back. Her arms are stretched out behind her, curling over the armrest, and her shirt is riding up. Leigh Anne tries to hold back a rush of fondness for her partner and best friend.

"We're leaving," Jesy says plainly. "I've already spoken with the Colonel, and he agrees with me."

"What." Leigh Anne repeats.

Jesy rolls her eyes. "We're going after Payne and Horan, Leigh. Someone's gotta bring them back, and who better than their own team? We know them better than anyone; if _we_ can't find them then they must be dead, honestly." Stretching once more and letting out a small whine, she sits up, flicking her hair off her shoulder. "We're going after them, and we're going to find them, and we'll bring them back and it'll be like nothing happened." She shrugs. "Who knows, maybe Niall _is_ dead. If his brother really was a mutant sympathizer he might not have taken too kindly to his brother being a captain of the SFH."

Leigh Anne frowns, feeling her brows pull down. "Don't say that; he's alive."

Jesy shrugs again. "Let's go; I'm hungry."

*•*•*

They get dinner in the canteen, and bring the plates back to their housing unit. Jesy takes the time to explain her conversation with Higgins about leaving, and Leigh Anne finds herself thinking that maybe the plan isn't bad after all.

The night is spent packing for a few days, and they argue playfully about whether they should prepare for all kinds of weather. "What if the boys ran off to Uganda?" Jesy argues. "It's quite hot there."

Leigh Anne laughs. "Or what if they went to Iceland," she adds. "They'll be freezing their bollocks off."

Jesy snorts. "If they've even got any. I swear we pulled more weight than any of those boys, Harry included." She goes silent. When she speaks again it's much more quiet. "Although Niall did do most of the ugly stuff, you know? The killing. He never let any of us do that unless it was absolutely necessary."

Leigh Anne quiets. "Yeah," mumbles. "Always said we shouldn't have to be damaged by that. Our mental health scores were much too shiny and clean to be tarnished by blood, yeah?"

"God," Jesy sighs, sitting on Leigh Anne's bed. "Remember when his scores were read to us? He was so embarrassed, poor thing. I didn't even know what to think; ten fifty! How did he last so damn long, honestly. I'm surprised he didn't quit sooner."

Biting her lip, Leigh Anne perches next to her. "So you think he quit, then? Niall?"

With a breathy exhale, Jesy runs a hand through her hair. "I don't know. He never really seemed happy here, did he? But he always made a point to let us know this was all he had. _We_ were all he had." She shakes her head. "That boy...he was a complex one." Her eyes narrow as she stares off into space. "I mean...maybe he did quit, you know? But there's also the chance that his brother's sympathy to mutants got him into some serious trouble. It could've gone either way, really." Jesy intertwines her hand with Leigh Anne's, squeezing tightly. "No matter what, though, we'll find out. And we'll find him. Don't you worry about that."

*•*•*

Three days later, it turns out that the thing they should have worried about was Higgins. He meets them at the gates as they sign out their usual squad car, trailed by Irwin and his First Lieutenant, Hemmings. Both Aussies, both extremely annoying in Leigh Anne's book. She and Jesy exchange a look as the three men approach, and fall in line.

"At ease, soldiers," Higgins nods. He waves a hand at Irwin and Hemmings, who sign their names onto the car form and start placing the bags they've brought with them in the boot.

"What's going on, sir?" Jesy demands.

Higgins's brow pulls down. "You didn't think I'd let the two of you go alone?" he asks. "Not only are you low in rank with no official commanding officer, but the rest of your team have already deserted. How else can we make sure this isn't some sort of elaborate scheme? I might very well lose the last two members of the best team I've ever had."

Irwin makes a disbelieving sound from the boot of the car, covering it up with a cough when Higgins glances at him. He shakes his head, and slams the boot down. "All ready, sir."

The Colonel nods, turning back to the girls. "I'm sorry if you believed otherwise, but this is a very important mission and I can't let your emotions jeopardize it. You're close enough to Horan and Payne to find them, but also to be persuaded into deserting as well. I can't risk that."

Leigh Anne nods, and lightly kicks Jesy when she just glares at Higgins. "Yes, sir," she mutters.

"Good," he says. "Now, Sergeant, go on and meet with your new team; get to know them a bit. I need a word with Pinnock." Jesy nods, still glaring, and salutes, then walks off. She doesn't spare the boys a glance, climbing into her usual seat in the car. Higgins turns to Leigh Anne, cocking his head. They walk a few paces away.

"What is it, sir?" she asks, brows furrowed.

Higgins sighs, running a hand down his face. "I need you to find me those boys, Lieutenant," he says quietly. "And I don't much trust those two Aussies over there, so I'm depending on you and Nelson, you hear me?" He shakes his head. "I know I don't much act like it, but Horan was like a son to me, alright? The boy had his issues, and lord knows he did his best to deny me that connection, but he was. Is. I need you to find him. Ditch those two twits first chance you get and find me my son."

Startled, Leigh Anne nods. "Yes, sir."

*•*•*

The first thing they do is take a ferry to Ireland. They need an official squad car for all SFH missions, so they can't just take a plane to get to the country Niall was seen last in. Leigh Anne is driving, as usual, and it calms her, doing something that feels relatively normal. The light bickering with Jesy, hearing the authoritative voices in the backseat forming a plan, even if she doesn't agree with it. Or plan on following it, really. She hasn't had the chance to tell Jesy what Higgins said, but she'll figure it out. She's already got something in mind.

"So Horan's from Westmeath, yeah," Irwin says. "We should head there first, check his mum's house, his brother's, his dad's. After that we can check his cousins, aunts, uncles. Then we hit childhood mates, girlfriends, the like. If he had a job as a kid, we check that out. Teachers he was especially close to."

Hemmings hums in agreement. "Sounds like a plan."

"Or it would," Jesy intones. "If all those places hadn't already been checked once Niall had been considered rogue."

Irwin rolls his eyes. "Obviously, Nelson, but they were in a rush, weren't they? The investigating officers they sent before were in a rush, trying to deal with the press, deal with two mutant sympathizers, and find Horan all at the same time. They had limited resources and limited time. _We're_ going to take as long as we need to find that boy."

"That _boy_ is ten times the man you'll ever be," Jesy snaps. "One look at you and I can tell you use your rank and your accent to pull birds every night. Have you ever had a serious mission? Or is this your first one? Because my captain had at least one mission a week that was more than just carrying out an execution." Tired of glaring at Irwin through the rearview mirror, Jesy whirls around. "Did you know he was a member of the team that took down the biggest mutant rebellion in England to date? Yeah, he led half of them soldiers, actually. Was awarded a Nobleman for his work. What have you done lately?"

Smothering a laugh, Leigh Anne presses on the brakes, pulling into a parking spot. "We're here."

The other three whip their heads at her, confused. "That's not possible," Hemmings says. "We've only been driving for a half hour."

"I know that," Leigh Anne says. She nods at the storefront in front of her. "We need petrol. These cars are old and sitting on the ferry with the air conditioning on totally drained the tank. It's also a perfect opportunity for snacks." She places emphasis on _snacks_ , something that always worked with Niall, before, but Irwin just narrows his eyes.

"We haven't got time for snacks, Lieutenant," he snaps. "Fill the tank and get us back on the road."

Jesy scoffs. "Well, I for one, am craving a snack, so I'll be back in a jiffy, yeah?" She hops out the car and slams the door behind her, and Leigh Anne just sends Irwin a small smile before doing the same.

"Put about twenty on the pump, Jes!" she calls. Jesy raises a hand in acknowledgement.

As Leigh Anne fiddles around with the tank, she goes over the rough plan she's come up with. It's simple really; distract the boys for long enough so she and Jesy and sneak away, find Niall and hopefully Liam and maybe even Harry, if their luck is that swell, and get back like nothing. Harry for sure would be sentenced to at least five years, having admitted to his desertion, but if they plead a good enough case Niall and Liam could get off clean. Their team has a pretty smart lawyer; they should be fine.

The boys stay in the car, complaining loudly about the lack of respect they're getting, and Leigh Anne has to roll her eyes. Niall and Liam had been the same way, only much more friendly about it. They'd joke about firing the girls one moment, and then be on their knees thanking them for saving their lives the next. It was a nice balance.

There's a tap on her shoulder a moment later, and when she turns she sees Jesy holding up to Dr. Peppers. She grins thankfully, grabbing one and twisting off the top. Dr. Peppers are for missions only, the ones stressful enough for them to need something so sweet. It's a strange tradition they've acquired, the two of them, but one they never break. The boys are staring at them through the back window; she can feel it.

With a sigh loud enough to be heard from outside the car, Irwin swings his door open and stomps off to the store, Hemmings trailing behind him like a chastised puppy.

Jesy grins.

"What's the plan, then?" she asks knowingly, taking a sip of her drink.

Leigh Anne sighs, shrugging. "It's not a good one, so don't get your hopes up." When Jesy just raises a brow, she barrels on. "Basically we ditch the boys. Higgins himself told me to get rid of them; we have to do it as soon as possible. I was thinking -"

"We could do it now," Jesy comments. "They're in there griping about how bad of soldiers we are, could take a while; might not get another chance like this." She raises her brows at Leigh Anne's skeptical look. "Come _on_ , Leigh, don't be that way. If we ditch now we don't have to deal with them later." Her eyebrows bounce, and she follows suit, bouncing on her toes as she tugs Leigh Anne's arm, much like a child begging for sweets.

Leigh Anne can't help it. She caves. "Fine," she groans, and pulls the pump out of the car, replacing it in its handle. "Get in the car, then, hurry. Before they come back."

They climb into their respective seats, Jesy with an excited squeal, and Leigh Anne with a resigned sigh. "Cannot believe," she murmurs to herself.

Jesy snorts. "I can."

The last thing they see as they pull out of the petrol station is the two boys standing at their abandoned pump with confused (in Hemmings's case) and angered (in Irwin's) expressions on their faces.

*•*•*

They drive to Niall's dad's house, first thing. It's a Sunday, so he's dressed in trackies and an old sweatshirt. He looks so much like Niall when he was in comfort clothes that it almost makes Leigh Anne want to cry.

He greets them with a warm but hesitant smile. "You're the gals on Niall's team, aren't you?" he asks politely. Leigh Anne wonders how he knows; they weren't put in the news when the whole scandal started. Haven't been approached for a quote, even, and have never met Niall's family. She nods anyway, and he sighs, exasperated but kind. "Come on in, then."

Bobby Horan leads them through the small house, and Leigh Anne finds herself trying to picture Niall in its room. She can't, not with the current Niall she knows. The house seems too blurry, somehow, where her Niall is all sharp edges and clean borders. Even with his more relaxed self, he was organized and clean and tidy. Never a sock out of place.

They sit on the couch, and Bobby offers them a cup of tea, which they both decline. Jesy leans forward.

"Mr. Horan," she starts, "I know you've already had officers come through here during the investigation on Niall, but we do have more questions we need to ask. It's just that we know him better than anyone else back in London, and we think we might be able to find him."

Bobby nods. "Course, lass. Go ahead. Won't hold back."

Leigh Anne wets her lips and doves right in. Or at least, she tries, until Bobby speaks again.

"Have to say, though, my son's not a criminal. Barely had a secret when he was a kid, don't think he could quite manage it now." He shrugs. "Don't know if that'll help, but it's true."

Leigh Anne and Jesy exchange a look. This is not the way Niall would have wanted it, if he ever did want it, but it has to be done. Otherwise Bobby will continue to have misconceptions about his son.

"I wonder, Mr. Horan, did you know that Niall is gay?" Leigh Anne asks delicately. Bobby's smile loses it's brightness just a tad, but he nods. Brows furrowed in confusion, Leigh Anne glances at Jesy. "You did?"

Chuckling softly, Bobby runs a hand over his beard. "Kid didn't want me to know, I gathered that much, but. Like I said, he's never had a secret. He's rubbish at keeping them." He shakes his head. "Used to bring this lad over on the weekends, ginger kid, quite big. They'd disappear into his room for hours, only come out to eat or piss. They'd always come out a lot more red in the face than when they'd went in." Shrugging, Bobby laughs again. "Kind of hard not to figure it out."

"He's still awful at keeping secrets," Jesy laughs. "Adamant that he's straight, but everyone knows he's at least somewhat attracted to lads." She bites her lip, cutting a glance at Leigh Anne. "Do you think he might have gone to this boy, then, if he had nowhere else to go?"

Lips twisting, Bobby shakes his head. "If he did, I doubt he'd still be there. Craig got married 'bout a year ago; has a daughter and all." He shrugs. "Niall was never one to intrude on others."

Leigh Anne nods. "Thank you, Mr. Horan. Um, is there anything else you can think of, any teachers or friends or old bosses?" She knows it's practically futile; the officers before them already did all this. But Bobby nods.

"Maura's house. It's been standing empty for years, now, since Niall was drafted. She didn't exactly disappear, not really, but she moved out, went south, and only came back up here when she wanted to see the grandson." His expression grows dark, for the first time. "The grandson that turned out to be a mutant. I know this is an awful thing to ask of you, but. Please, if you find Theo...don't kill him. Bring him back to me, and I can take care of him. But the kid is just that, a kid. He doesn't deserve to die."

Feeling dread pool in the pit of her stomach, Leigh Anne freezes. She's never been blatantly asked to do the exact opposite of what she's been trained to do since she was fifteen years old. There's no way for her to respond without hurting someone, herself included. But before she can answer, Jesy is speaking up.

"On my word, Mr. Horan, we will do everything we can to protect your grandson," she says softly. Her eyes are wide, but her jaw is set, determined. She leans forward. "One last question, though, love; where exactly did your ex wife go?"

*•*•*

Liam hates this place. Hates it with a passion. He's surrounded by the people he was trained to kill, mutants and their sympathizers alike. And it's not that he has this urge to just kill all of them; he's just so overwhelmed by the amount of mutants who feel free to use their abilities in everyday life. This is not what he was trained for.

There's a four armed man serving him lunch right now.

There's a child with orange skin and a spiked orange tail sticking out of her trousers standing right next to him.

There's a blabbering psychopath on his other side.

"I've only been here a few years, myself, but it's really flourished since I've gotten here," Louis says. He doesn't seem too concerned with the fact that Liam is not paying attention. "Bressie's really done a great job with the place - thanks, mate - you wouldn't even _believe_ what this place used to look like before."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Liam smiles politely at the mutant who hands him a bottle of water and heads off to find a seat. He hears Louis chattering on behind him but doesn't bother with waiting for him. His eyes snag on Niall sitting next to Harry, and they both look up at him at the same time, hope written across their faces. Clenching his jaw, he heads over.

He's still mad at them, but he'd rather sit next to people he knows than total strangers who's family he's probably killed at some point.

The mutant gene is a sneaky one.

They stare at him as he sits, eyes wide. He feels bad, sort of, because they baked him a cake for his birthday and all, and Harry even found them a bottle of tequila for their old tradition. Liam didn't make it past twelve, but Niall did fifteen in thirty seconds, which was neat.

He's about to say something when Louis plops down next to him. He can't help it, but he feels his expression drop.

Harry smothers a laugh.

"Hello, lads," Louis says breezily. "Lovely day, isn't it? Got a break from the wall, can stretch my legs. Fill my tummy."

Without him even realizing it, Niall looks over at Liam and they exchange a Look. It's the one they used to share whenever Harry would say something particularly aggravating. One they used more often than not, really.

They make small talk, Louis filling up most of it, until Liam finally snaps.

"Why are you acting as though nothing is wrong?" he interrupts. Louis was just in the middle of animatedly describing his first time on wall duty, and Liam doesn't feel all that bad because it was a dreadful story anyway. So there.

Louis stops, staring at him with wide eyes.

"I almost killed you," Liam elaborates. "You almost killed Niall. And Niall almost killed me. Why are you acting as if that never happened? You're sitting with three SFH officers and you just _don't care_?"

Harry coughs lightly. "Three _former_ SFH officers, actually."

Liam rolls his eyes. "Two former SFH officers and one SFH officer who doesn't want to be here and would very much like to go home. Point is, we all embody the very thing you hate, and you all embody the very thing we were trained to take out." He shakes his head. "You shouldn't be here as if that's not a thing."

Louis coughs, once, then regains his persona and primly places his fork down. "Well, Liam," he says, "I believe in second chances. Don't you? Maybe I'm just trying to make up for almost killing your pal, and maybe I'm just trying to show you that there's no hard feelings. Might want to think about that one, sir."

"No." It comes out much more forcefully than Liam would like. "There should be hard feelings. I didn't _just_ almost kill you, okay, my organization killed your _entire family._ " He knows because Niall told him. "You shouldn't even be able to be in the same room as me, much less volunteer to house me until further notice." Frustrated, he stands. His food is barely touched, but he knows if he leaves it Niall will take it in a heartbeat. At least, the Niall he used to know would. "I'm not interested in sitting here and pretending like everything is okay. Especially if the exact opposite is true."

And he walks out.

He has nowhere to go, not really, other than the crop fields Perrie oversees. They do pretty well, for a town that shouldn't exist. The only thing he can really do is start his shift up again, even though at this point in the day the crops can be left alone. So he just goes through the rows, thinking and fuming.

Liam misses his family. He misses his friends. He misses his housing unit back at base. He misses Sophia, even though they broke up months ago. He misses his team. He even misses Higgins, somehow.

Most of all, though, he misses his dog. Loki was more loyal than half the soldiers at base, and twice as cute. Soft. Playful. Awful with the toilet training, though. He wonders how his mum is doing with him. He'd had to leave Loki with her because animals weren't allowed at base, but since his mum only lived a bit away, he trusted her to take care of him. Loki was great. Always ready to play, but understanding if Liam didn't want to. Had the cutest little bark, too. In fact, Liam thinks he can hear it right now.

Wait.

He turns, and there's a dog, looking just like Loki, running through the rows of crops towards him. He seems to be running from something, or someone, considering the cries that ring out. Liam bends down as the dog nears him, getting ready to catch him. He braces for the impact of the small body hitting him, and swings the dog up into his arms, following the momentum and turning a few degrees. The dog wriggles in his arms, yipping excitedly, and tries to lick at Liam's face. Laughing, he turns his head away and palms the dog's muzzle away.

"Oh, thank god," someone pants, their feet pounding to a stop right next to him. He turns to them, finds a small boy of about fifteen standing there. His face is red and sweaty, his chest heaving up and down in erratic breaths. "You'd think, you know, with a mutation that lets you talk to animals, they'd be more likely to listen t'you." His accent is distinctly Irish, something that Liam has learned is not a guarantee despite their location. He's got crazy curly red hair, freckles, and shiny green eyes, like something out of a cartoon.

He nods. "Don't worry about it. I've got a dog just like him back home, wouldn't listen if you paid him." His brows furrows. "Although I'm not quite sure what you'd pay a dog."

"Cheese," says the kid knowingly. The dog in Liam's arms wriggles that much more furiously at the word, and the kid nods. "Dogs love cheese."

Liam can't help but grin. "So you can talk to animals, eh?"

The kid nods again, squinting in the sun. He wipes a bit of sweat from his brow. "Yeah. Brez thought it'd be a big help, t'see if we could start tending to cattle, sheep, the like, but. It's kind of hard to talk to an animal when you know you're gonna be eating him sooner or later. I had t'say no." His pants are less frantic, more even. "What d'you do?"

Oh. "Um, I'm just helping with the crops, for now. Don't know much else about what I'm going to be doing here, but. For now." Liam can feel his face growing hot, and not just from the sun. He busies himself with petting the dog.

The kid laughs. "No, no, I meant, like, what _can_ you do? What's your mutation?" He holds his hands out for the dog, who goes happily. He mumbles something, and the dog wriggles even more. He sighs, and looks up at Liam expectantly.

"I, um, don't have one," Liam admits. "I'm really only here cause of Niall, so -"

"I love Niall!" The kid exclaims. "He's such a cool music teacher; his classes are great. He's been letting me practice on his guitar, says I'm the only one he trusts with it." He frowns. "Wait. You're friends with Niall? Does that mean you're..." he trails off, taking a step back. The dog in his arms goes still, whips his head towards Liam, and stares. The kid doesn't look scared, exactly, more betrayed, but the expression on his face still tears Liam's heart in two.

"Not anymore," he rushes to say. "I don't do that anymore. I'm here now, aren't I? That means I'm good, now. I'm not a bad guy anymore." He doesn't know why exactly he feels the need to assure this kid that he's a good guy, but he does. It's only after he says it that he realizes he basically just referred to himself as a former bad guy. That's not cool.

"I..." the kid looks around the field, eyes narrowed. "I have to go." He shakes his head, stepping back, and Liam doesn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry," he says. It's all he's got.

The kid looks at him, a contemplative expression adorning his features, and although he keeps walking, he seems less tense. "I'm Seamus."

Liam nods. "Liam."

And the kid runs off.

*•*•*

"We're not _really_ going all the way down to Cork, are we?" Jesy asks. "Quite far, innit?"

Leigh Anne snorts, switching on her blinker. Yet another habit she picked up from Niall. Granted, it's one she should have had either way, but. Whatever. "Two hours is not that far. We've gone farther on missions. Remember when they sent us to Scotland?"

Jesy groans. "Worst day _ever_."

Grinning, Leigh Anne shakes her head. "Point is, yes, we're going all the way to Cork. And then we're coming back up here to find the Aussies, and then we're going home." She eyes the backseat, frowning. "Though I'm not sure how they'll fit; if we find both Niall and Liam that'll be one too many people in the back. And if we find Harry it'll be even worse."

"We could always strap the Aussies to the top of the car," Jesy grins wolfishly. "Should be fun."

Brows raised, Leigh Anne can't help but stutter out a laugh. "You are a psychopath." She pulls into the drive through of a McDonald's. "What're you getting?"

*•*•*

"Shit, Harry - _shit_ ," Niall gasps. He fists his hands in the bedspread, clenching his eyes shut. He's on his hands and knees, Harry behind him doing - _something_ , that feels absolutely amazing. He groans, dropping his head between his arms.

"Good?" Harry grunts, sounding smug. Niall pushes back, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up, you knob," he snaps.

Harry laughs. "You love my knob."

There's not much talking after that, until they finish and they're both lying in Niall's bed, sweaty and panting.

"Is it just me," Harry says, "or is it getting better?"

"It's just you," Niall answers. He snorts when Harry punches him. "I dunno, Haz. Maybe it is."

Harry hums, stretching lazily. He turns over onto his stomach, resting his head on a hand. "D'you wanna go to the pharmacy with me tomorrow?" he asks idly. Niall's brow furrows.

"Still don't understand why you need to go if Jade can heal people with her hands." He shakes his head. "Seems kind of redundant."

Lips pursed, Harry shakes his head. "Jade can't heal everyone, Niall. What if your knee starts acting up? You'll need an ibuprofen. What if I get insomnia? I'll need sleeping pills. What if Jade herself gets sick or hurt? She'll need to be tended to." He pulls at Niall's sparse chest hair, giggling when Niall swings at him. "We've a method to our madness, don't worry."

Niall hums sarcastically, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'll go. Been a while since I've seen the outside. Need to ask Bressie, though."

"Oh, right, that's true," Harry sighs. They're silent for a moment, Niall drifting and Harry pulling at loose threads on the sheets. "Ni?" he murmurs, pulling Niall back. He hums. "You do realize that you're getting better, right? With the whole - us, and the - the sex. You're not having an anxiety thing after anymore, and you've even been the one to initiate it the last couple times."

His cheeks growing hot, Niall clenches his jaw. "Harry."

"I'm just saying, Niall, okay, you're getting better. I - I think maybe you should talk to your mum about it, and -"

"Harry, I don't want to talk about this," Niall snaps.

Brows pulled down, Harry pouts. "You should. Won't get any better unless you start talking about it. You do realize there's nothing wrong with what we do, yeah? There's millions of people just like us, who do even weirder things than we do." He leans up on his forearms, trying to meet Niall's eyes, but Niall refuses. He's not in the mood for this. "I'm just saying, maybe if you were to talk about everything going on in that blond head of yours you'd be happier. You'd be able to work past all your - issues."

Niall's eyes narrow suspiciously. "What were you about to say?"

Harry shakes his head, eyes wide. "Nothin'."

"Harry."

"I wasn't!"

"What were you going to say?"

Drawing up onto his knees, Harry clambers off the bed and starts pulling on his clothes. "Worry not about that, Niall, and worry about your hair. You need a trim, and - and your roots are growing in, so - yeah. I've gotta meet Jade, probably, so..."

Niall rolls his eyes. "Bye, Harry."

Grinning widely, Harry waves, one hand on the door. He hesitates just outside, poking his head back in. "You'll talk to your mum, though?"

"No."

His face grows deadpan. "Niall," he says seriously.

He sighs. "We'll see."

"Can't keep running away from your issues, Niall," Harry says softly.

Niall shakes his head, lying back down and shutting his eyes.

"We'll see."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you ready for this?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly im so sorry cause it's been so long and this isn't even a good chapter so like :///
> 
> also since im trash imagine the compound to have a similar structure to the town from once upon a time, if you've seen it. or not, whatever's better for you

* * *

**What Happened**

"Horan!" Higgins yells across the room, his voice booming over the music playing. It's graduation day, and everyone is celebrating the end of their training years. Niall is sitting back, watching Liam as he tries to pull a bird from the class above them, with slight amusement. He jumps when Higgins appears at his shoulder.

Standing straight and saluting, Niall almost upends hTis drink. "Colonel."

"At ease, soldier," Higgins says. When Niall relaxes, he pulls a black velvet box out from behind his back. Niall hadn't even noticed he was hiding something. "This is for you."

Niall stares at it. "What is it?" In response, Higgins just pushes the box towards him until he grabs it. The box is heavy, weighed down with whatever is inside. Tentatively, Niall flicks it open. It's rough going at first, like an oversized jewelry box, but gives after a few inches. Resting on a black satin pillow is an old fashioned revolver, with a wooden handle and a smooth silver barrel. Higgins taps the lid.

"That's a .365 Magnum right there. Six inch barrel, eight bullet counts, with a range of seventy-five feet." He grins. "Nice, innit?"

Speechless, Niall gapes at the colonel. He's never seen him smile before, not like this, and it almost frightens him. This is what Higgins gets excited about? "Um, what's it for?"

Higgins shrugs. "I figured a congratulations was in order; you've completed your training at the top of your class, with some of the best marks we've ever seen." He sighs, although it's not heard over the pounding bass. "We're not allowed any handguns on the field anymore, only automatics, but it makes for a nice personal piece."

"Um," Niall says again. "Thanks, I guess."

Frowning, the colonel gestures for Niall to sit, and takes the seat across from him. "Thing is, Horan, I was gifted a piece like that by me own da when I completed my training, yeah? Told me that every great man has a great gun on his belt. I kept mine on me as much as possible, and now that all I do is sit in an office all day, it never leaves my side." He lifts a hand off the table, brings it under and places it where Niall knows his own gun is resting. "You're a great soldier, Horan, and I see a lot of myself in you. Guess I'm just saying that, if you keep that on you as much as possible, maybe you'll get to where I am. Maybe even higher."

Now, what Niall _wants_ to do is laugh in his face. Laugh and tell him that, if he has anything to say about it, he'll be high tailing it out of London the second his six years are up.

But he can't, obviously, so instead he just smiles weakly and nods. "Thank you, sir."

Higgins nods, looking uncomfortable for a moment. "Go enjoy yourself, eh? It's a party, treat it like one."

He leaves after that, and doesn't look back. Niall stays seated, staring at the gun now in his possession. Upon further inspection, he sees his initials engraved into the wooden handle, with a small shamrock right by the H. He sighs.

This sucks.

**What's Going On**

"Antihistamines are priority, actually," comments Harry as they stroll through the aisles. He's reading the list Jade sent them off with, her neat handwriting scribbled all over the back of a Chinese takeaway receipt. Niall was amazed and also insulted when he saw it; no one ever told him ordering takeaway at the Compound was an option.

He sighs. "Whatever, Haz."

Making a face, Harry moves on from the cough syrup he'd found Niall staring at in contemplation. They wander on in silence, mostly, with the odd comment about whatever minuscule thing is brought to their attention. Niall is bored, to say the least, but there's nothing to be done. He told Harry he'd come, and now here he is. He's lying in the bed he's made, or whatever.

"Why'd we have to come out so far of Cork, again?" He asks. They're right at the border, closer to Limerick than he feels is necessary. The further away from the Compound they are, the more likely they are to be caught.

Harry sighs irritably. "Because," he says slowly, "if we get caught all the way out here, they'll assume we're camped out way out here, rather than at the very bottom of the godforsaken country."

"Watch your mouth," Niall snaps lightheartedly. "No one told you to come running to Ireland, mate."

Scoffing, the other boy just moves on, dropping a pack of bandages in their basket. Silence falls over them once more, and Niall groans internally. All he wants is to get out of here quickly, but that's obviously not an option, because the only time Harry Styles is quick is when he's impatient and trying to get off.

Niall's face burns with the thought, even though there's no way anyone could have heard that. Shaking his head, he kicks at Harry's feet. He whines, dropping the hand holding Jade's list and turning to Niall, annoyed. "What now?"

"I'm hungry," Niall says, deadpan. Harry's expressions drops, unamused, but he stays silent. "I'm going to the crisp aisle." Still no response. "I'm not getting you anything."

Finally, Harry snaps. "Like hell you aren't. Cheetos, the puffy ones." He digs through his pocket and pulls out a tenner. "This should be enough, just bring me back the change."

Smirking, Niall salutes. "Ay, ay, captain." As he walks away, he hears Harry mocking him in a silly voice. Some things never get old.

He's turning the corner into the crisp aisle, and his eye catches on two birds already there. One of them's taller, with darker skin and a head full of braids pulled into a ponytail. The other one is shorter by a bit, with wavy hair cascading down her back. Niall doesn't think much of it until he sees the tattoos on the shorter one's arm. Eyes widening in shock, Niall freezes in his spot. His mind races a million miles a second, in a hundred different directions. He'd brought his revolver, just in case, but he wasn't actually planning on using it. And he wouldn't ever willingly shoot his partners.

Slowly, he backs out of the aisle, glad he's wearing his Vans rather than his boots or his trainers. Those would have made some sort of sound against the linoleum floors and alerted the girls to his presence, but these shoes are a bit more forgiving. He makes it around the corner before either of them has the chance or the urge to look up and spot him.

As quickly and quietly as he can, Niall runs back to the pharmaceutical section of the store, where Harry is. His knee is throbbing like it hasn't in years, but he pays it no mind. He skids to a halt when he sees Harry, almost crashing into him and sending them both to the ground. Harry squawks at the bother. Niall scrambles to cover his mouth with his hands. Eyes wide and wild, Harry stares at him.

"Jesy and Leigh Anne are here!" he hisses. Harry's eyes double in size, forming perfect circles of green, and Niall nods. "We have to get out of here, now."

Harry pulls Niall's hands down, bending slightly so they're on level. "But what about the list?"

"We can come back for that another day, Haz, but we need to leave before the girls find us. You know they won't give us a choice about going back," Niall answers. Harry nods gravely. They both have faced the wrath of the two girls in the crisp aisle. Separately they're hell, but when they're partnered up it's another thing altogether.

They creep back to the pharmacist counter, and Harry places his half-filled basket on the smooth surface with a wince. "Sorry," he whispers. The pharmacist raises a brow, but say nothing else, tugging the basket over to his side. Niall glances at the old square telly in the corner, which is switched onto the news. Which has his, Harry's, and Liam's faces plastered on it. His eyes widen, and the pharmacist follows his gaze. His eyes widen as well, and he glances between the Harry and Niall in front of him and the ones on tv. Niall holds one hand up, places the other on Harry's chest, and they back away slowly.

Not slowly enough, apparently, because the pharmacist reaches over and slams his fist into a small red button on the wall above the counter. All at once, a screeching alarm rings out, a protective fence slams down onto the counter, and a red light begins flashing throughout the store. Niall and Harry look at each other, matching expressions of panic on their faces.

"Shit," Harry gasps.

"Yeah," is all Niall can say.

The pounding of boots brings their attention back to the opposite end of the store, where Jesy and Leigh Anne are rushing in from. They come to a stop when they see Niall and Harry, eyes wide in surprise. The four of them stay there for a moment, wild-eyed expressions mirrored on all of their faces, when Leigh Anne regains her composure and pulls her badge out of her pocket and approaches the pharmacist. Niall can't hear what she says to him over the alarm, but it gets him to shut it off, along with the flashing red light, even if he leaves the fence down. With a curt nod towards Leigh Anne, he disappears into the back. A second later, the cameras in all the corners of the aisles simultaneously power down, lights clicking off and their lenses turning to the floor as if reprimanded.

"Well," says Jesy. That's all. The boys have got one girl on each side of them, which gives them little chance of escape, but Niall attempts it anyway.

He pulls his revolver out from under his shirt and aims it at Jesy, arm steady. "Let us go."

Jesy pulls a face, brows pulling down in the middle and her mouth quirking up disbelievingly. "Um, excuse you, Horan, put that away now. You won't need it."

Shaking his head, Niall nudges Harry so he can start walking. He doesn't. "I hope not, Jess, cos you know I don't ever want to hurt you. Either of you." He nudges Harry again, harder. He still doesn't move.

Leigh Anne sighs audibly, coming to stand by Jesy. Niall's gun follows her. "Niall, we're not going to turn you in. After all we've been through, you really think we would?" Her brows are furrowed, as if she's genuinely upset at the thought. She probably is, Niall realizes.

Then, like a light switch being flicked, Niall understands exactly who it is he's pointing his gun at, and he sighs, lowering his arm. "Shit." He shoves the gun back into his trousers. "Shit. _Shit_ , Jesy, I'm so sorry." He runs a hand across his face. Jesy rolls her eyes and approaches him, arms open. They hug, both holding on tightly.

"Arse," she mumbles into his shoulder. He nods.

"I know."

Harry clears his throat. "Um, I'm all for dramatic reunions, but...what exactly is going on? Please tell me you two haven't deserted as well." His expression is confused and worried all at once. He looks between the two of them. "Because it'd be really fucking weird if an entire team deserted, and all within a month of each other."

Now it's Leigh Anne's turn to roll her eyes. "No, you dolt, we're on a search party. Looking for the Captain here and his First Lieutenant. Not you, though."

Harry pouts. "Not fair."

"Well," Jesy sighs, pulling away from Niall. "You are the only one who deserted with clear intentions. Niall and Liam just disappeared." She shrugs. "We've been assigned new commanding officers, and we were sent to retrieve you, but. You know we wouldn't." She hesitates. "Not so you could be arrested, at least."

Niall's head is reeling. New commanding officers? A search party? Surely he's not _that_ important to the SFH? To send the first search team after his initial disappearance makes sense, is protocol, but to send a second one almost a month after? It's unbelievable and, most importantly, unheard of. He's trying to wrap his head around this, but it's impossible. Sure, Higgins was always going on about how great of a soldier he was, but he couldn't actually have been so amazing that a second search team would be sent after him. Honestly, it's not logical.

"Stop thinking about it so hard," Jesy snorts. "Higgins sent us personally. Told us to ditch the new team and come after you. And Liam, of course."

Still pouting, Harry adds, "But not me."

Jesy rolls her eyes, then turns to Leigh Anne. "So what do we do now?"

Shoulders heaving with a great sigh, Leigh Anne shakes her head. "The only thing we can. We talk."

*•*•*

They end up at the hotel the girls are staying at for the time being, a small yet posh thing with flowers everywhere. Leigh Anne and Jesy take a place on the single bed ( which makes Niall wonder if maybe they - but it wouldn't make sense, would it, Jesy was engaged last Niall knew, so he forces it out of his mind), Niall at the desk, and Harry on an extra chair. It's silent for a moment, then Harry sighs loudly.

"I might as well start, hadn't I?" He rubs at his eyes, frowning. "I think it's quite obvious why I left, seeing as I left a note, but closure's much more healthy than assumption." He shrugs. "I didn't want to do it anymore. I think it's wrong, what we do - what I did. So many times those mutants would read the word paramedic on my chest and their eyes would like, light up almost, because they're hoping hey, maybe they _won't_ be killed, you know. But they were never right, obviously. And it hurt, a lot more than you'd think. So I quit. The wrong way, I guess, but still."

Leigh Anne's eyebrows jump. "No one asked, Styles," she mutters. She turns to Niall. "You were on holiday. What happened?"

Shrugging, Niall briefly explains the situation from the beginning, carefully leaving out any details of the Compound. These girls may be his friends, but Niall's heard how they talk about mutants. Jesy especially. The girls stare hard at him the entire time, looking for any holes or a lapse in time. When he's finished, he shrugs again. "We've been hiding ever since."

Running a hand over her face roughly, Jesy leans forward. "Wait a second, you shot Payne? I can't even -" she trails off, head shaking. "You shot one of your own to protect some random dick that tried to kill you? That makes no sense!"

Harry, who'd been watching Niall carefully, now pipes, "Liam can take a bullet, that's why Niall did it. Haven't you been listening? He's tired of the killing, so it'd be better to shoot someone who's felt it before than someone who hasn't. People have died just from the pain of a bullet, you know." He glances at Niall. "He made the right choice, I think."

Brows scrunching, Leigh Anne leans back to rest on her hands. "He doesn't need you to speak for him, Haz," she says quietly. Niall knows that tone of voice. It's the tone Leigh Anne uses when she's realizing something she doesn't feel too great about. She shakes her head, staring at Niall with a peculiar expression upon her face. Niall can feel his face grow hot under her inspection.

His mind begins running in a million directions, trying to catch up with Leigh Anne's. What is she thinking about that's making her look at him like this? Maybe she knows all about the Compound already and is just seeing exactly how far he's willing to take this. _Or,_ says a small voice in his head, _she knows what you're doing with Harry. Knows that the only reason you're out here is because you're trying to get with Harry. Again. Because doing that in your own house isn't enough, you have to take it the one step further and do it in public, where someone could see, that's how sick you are, as if you didn't already know -_

And suddenly _those_ thoughts, the ones that plagued him for so long, the ones that were going away slowly but surely, come back full force. Niall has to tear his gaze away from Leigh Anne and aim it at his hands. The edges of his vision are going black. His breath is shortening, his lungs refusing to open. Dully, he registers voices saying his name, but he doesn't pay attention to them. He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them wide, trying to get some vision back. His breaths are shallow, and he gets a brief flash of Louis above him, face passive, hands wrapped around his neck. Wait a second, is that how happened? Louis kneeling over him with no feeling on his face, fingers pressing bruises into his skin? No. No, it can't be.

Niall struggles with his breath, folding over his knees and choking. He hears his mam's voice in his head, like he always does at moments like this, but just when he tries to grab onto it, another voice pops up. _She doesn't love you,_ it says. _She left you and never looked back, never even wrote you back._

There's a loud noise somewhere above him, and yelling, but he doesn't really register it until someone shoves him to the floor and he hears his name being called. _Niall,_ it's saying, _run Niall._ Choking, he pries his eyes open, forcing sight into them, and sees two men with guns held up, aimed at he and Harry. They're vaguely familiar, and when Niall sees their fatigues he figures they must be the officers assigned to Leigh and Jesy, seeing as how pissed off the two look.

Harry is standing with his arms held up in surrender, but Niall's had too much surrender in his life already. Growling, he snatches the gun out of his trousers, wraps both hands firmly around the handle, and aims at the man closer to him. He's got scraggly hair, looks kind of like Harry even. Niall fights to catch his breath, and chokes out, "Put the guns down."

The men barely glance at each other before they laugh. "You're not serious?" the lead one asks. He's Australian. "We've got you _cornered_ , mate."

"I'm not your mate, stook," Niall snaps. The old Irish term throws the man off, his face twisting in confusion. Niall takes advantage of the distraction and fires a shot into the hands of he and his partner. They both yell in pain, and Niall shoots to his feet. He points the gun at Leigh Anne, hoping she understands his meaning.

"You gonna let us go now or what?" he yells. He knows his expression betrays the firm persona he's attempting, but he can't leave the girls thinking he's turned against them. His heart is beating wildly, but now it's for an entirely different reason. He's in mission mode, now, with the familiar weight of a gun in his hand and familiar course of adrenaline through his veins.

(If anyone asked, he'd deny it, but he has to admit - he's missed this feeling.)

Leigh Anne, bless her, understands right away and, with a small nod, yells back, "You've only dug yourself a deeper hole, Horan. You can't get away with this!"

With a sharp glance at the Aussies, still lying on the floor clutching their hands, groaning in pain, Niall can't help but grin. "I already did."

*•*•*

Liam finds Seamus sitting on the stairs leading up to his and Louis's flat, the dog from the day before sitting between his knees. They seem to be deep in conversation; the dog's head is quirked to the side and the boy's expression is incredulous. Liam bites back a smile. A voice in the back of his head reminds him that in the real world, Seamus would most likely be dead by now, but he stamps it down. He's done with that, now. Whether or not he wants to be.

He scuffs his the sole of his foot across the sidewalk mistakenly, then, and both boy and dog look up at him with wide eyes. Liam waves.

"What're you doing here?" he asks. He sits down beside Seamus and gives the dog a pat. Catching sight of a collar, he checks the tag and sees his name is Craic. Reminded of Niall, Liam lets out a laugh.

Seamus shrugs. "Uncle and aunt were fighting again. Usually I'd go to the rec center, but Zayn's not there and neither is Niall, and then I thought about going to the fields but Perrie yelled at me yesterday cos this little muppet here pissed on the wheat." He nudged at the dog with a foot, and the dog responds by attacking his trainers. Liam laughs again.

"So you came to me, of all people?" He shakes his head. "We just met yesterday." He lightly pushes Seamus with his shoulder. "Shouldn't talk to strangers, you know."

Shrugging again, Seamus distracts himself by playing about with Craic's ears. He stays silent for a few moments, until Liam thinks he just isn't going to answer. He's just about to ask him inside when Seamus opens his mouth.

"I just," he pauses. "You're SFH, like Niall was. Or you _used_ to be, I guess. I want - maybe you could -" he cuts himself off, brows furrowing. He looks like he's trying to sort out his words before saying them, only he can't quite figure them out. "My parents were taken by them."

And _wow_ , okay, that's not what Liam was expecting. He was thinking maybe the kid would want an explanation for the acts of the force, not this. Although it does make sense, now that he's said it. He's a mutant, and he mentioned an aunt and uncle. There's only so many reasons a mutant can be living in an illegal community with extended family members. Once again, Liam is reminded of Niall. He's in the same situation right now; his nephew's parents were taken away from the boy and now he's taking care of him.

Seamus opens his mouth again, pulling Liam away from his thoughts. "They both are mutants, you know, almost everyone in the family is. We're like - purebloods or something; we pride ourselves on the fact that we've bred so many." His face scrunches up. "That sounded a bit gross, actually. I just mean, you know, there's a lot of us in the family. But, um, my parents, they were really strong. Me mam, she can adapt to survive, you know, like Darwin's theory and stuff." His mouth quirks up in a barely there smile. "I threw an old cereal box at her once, when she wasn't looking, just to see if she'd change. A chunk of her hair fell out, and in its place was plates, like a rhino's. It was so cool." He grins, laughing breathily.

Liam has to bite his tongue to keep from talking. He knows exactly where this is going. He'd been the one to file the incarceration report on the two when they were brought onto base. It had been a rough day.

Shifting in his spot, Seamus clears his throat quietly. "And then, uh, me da, you know, he can change the level of his density. Like, if he wanted, he could let your hand go straight through him. It's an amazing thing to see. So, um, they showed up, handcuffed my parents, and carted them off. It was, you know, a bad day for me."

Brows furrowed, Liam nods. He had seen it. He'd seen it when both of Seamus's parents were placed in front of a firing squad for a demonstration the SFH held for the queen and prime minister. They'd both survived, because it's in their DNA, quite literally. They've been in cells since then. A pang of guilt shoots through his stomach. Liam doesn't quite know how his life became this.

He swallows roughly. "So...was there a question somewhere in there, or?"

Seamus sighs heavily. "I just wanna know if they're okay, I guess. Cos mutants are always killed on sight, but they weren't. I know they were taken, I just don't know where or - or if they're safe. But I know that you might know, cos you work for - _worked_ for the SFH, sorry. So. Yeah."

Liam's not sure how to respond. He shrugs tensely. "Honestly, there's a lot of possible answers I could give you. The - the mutants we incarcerate, they're not always treated very well. It depends on their cell block, their guards. I'm not sure how your parents are. I'm sorry."

Nodding, Seamus lets out a defeated sigh. "I think I expected that." His dog rests his head on Seamus's knee, and the boy palms his head right between the ears. Craic lets out a small bark, the quiet kind a dog makes when they not really committed to the sound, and Seamus's head tilts. "Excuse me?" Craic repeats the sound, a bit more enthusiastic this time, and Seamus shakes his head. "Knob." He sighs and turns to Liam. "Dog's hungry." He yelps when Craic nips at his fingers. "Okay, okay, _we're_ hungry, Jesus."

Liam laughs, endeared. "Come on up," he says. "I'm sure Louis won't mind if I let you in."

"Oh, no, Louis hates me," Seamus says seriously. Liam pauses, frozen in a crouch from beginning to stand. He cuts a glance at the boy, who stares back seriously. His expression breaks, though, and he laughs loudly, head tilted back. "I'm joking, mate."

Shaking his head, Liam shoves Seamus's head lightheartedly and stands. "Prick."

*•*•*

Niall drives them back to the Compound, hands wrapped tightly around the wheel so that he doesn't give into the urge to chew on his nails. Harry sits silent beside him, lip pulled between his teeth. Eventually Niall can't stand the silence anymore, and he opens his mouth to say something, but Harry beats him to it.

"Stop the car," he murmurs. Niall glances at him. "I ju - stop the _car_ , Horan."

Checking the road behind him, Niall slowly pulls over onto the grass. Harry stays still, his only movement the periodic rise and fall of his chest. They're silent, staring ahead of them as passing cars shake their own. Giving up, Niall shoves a cuticle into his mouth, chewing down on it. The air is tense, and he's not sure if it's because Harry is mad at him, specifically, or the entire situation. Finally, Harry speaks.

"There's someone following us."

Not what Niall was expecting. He whips his head towards Harry, feeling the crick in his neck, then whirls to face the back of the car. There's a black rover a few yards behind them, intermediate lights flicked on, and there's two people in the front seat. He lets out a harsh breath.

"How long," he asks.

Shaking his head, Harry slumps back into his seat. "Since we left the car park of the hotel. Didn't think much of it till now." He tilts his head so he can stare at Niall, green eyes almost perfect circles. "You're not going over to them, are you?"

Niall drops back into his seat, feeling the gun in his waistband jostle, pressing against his back. "Gonna have to, aren't I? If they're following us." He breathes in shakily. "What do you think I should do?"

This surprises Harry. Niall never asked for much help back when they were on the team, always made the decisions himself. He didn't like putting that burden on anyone but himself; if he made the wrong call, it would be his fault only. His way of making sure the number of people he hurt stayed as low as possible. Harry shifts in his seat, shrugging.

"Not sure, I mean," he sucks on his teeth. "Maybe we should just keep going. But - if they follow us, or if they, I don't know, if they -" he breaks off, sitting forward. He rests his elbows on the seat behind him, using them as leverage to peer into the rearview mirror. Niall follows his gaze.

The driver of the car has stepped out. It's a man, seems like, tall and broad, with closely cut hair. His stride is confident yet cautious, heavy-footed yet gentle. It sends a shiver up Niall's spine. There's only one type of man he knew who had a gait like that, and that was Colonel Cowell. He twists his arm behind himself and wraps his hand around the gun.

"Harry," he says, keeping his eyes on the mirror. He sees Harry turn towards him in his periphery. "Don't get out of the car. If anything happens, you jump over the console and you drive away, hear me? You don't wait for me, you don't come after me, you just drive. Take the most complicated route you can back to the Compound, double back if you have to, and only stop if it's absolutely necessary. Got it?"

Harry shakes his head, mouth open but making no sound. His brows are furrowed. Niall tears his gaze from the mirror to glare at him. Their stares clash for a moment, and Niall can practically feel every step the man takes, bringing them closer.

"Harry." Niall snaps. Harry continues shaking his head. " _Harry!_ "

"No!" Harry cries. "I can't let you just - leave, Niall, that's not how this works, we're a team!"

Sparing a glance at the approaching figure, Niall bends his knee and turns in his seat, gun in one hand and the other curled into a fist. "We're not a team, Harry. You were a paramedic who got thrown onto my task force and I was your captain. You're gonna do what I say, because if you don't everyone back at the camp will get hurt. Understand?" When Harry just shakes his head once more, Niall shouts it again. "Understand?!"

Jaw clenching, a vein appearing in his neck, Harry nods, once. "But don't you _dare_ think that I won't be coming back for you."

"You won't be," Niall says, then throws himself out of the car, slamming it behind him. He holds his gun up at eye level, both hands wrapped around it, and calls, "That's far enough, mate." The man falters, hands coming up in a peaceful gesture. It's too dark for Niall to see his face clearly, which only serves to anger him further. "Who are you?"

"That's no way to talk to your commanding officer, Captain Horan," the man calls. Niall's blood goes cold.

"Colonel Cowell?" he calls. The man shrugs, as if to say, _what can you do?_

"Been a while, hasn't it? And I suppose that's your little boyfriend in the car there, what was his name..." he pauses, thinking. Niall's shoulders tense. "Ah! Styles, wasn't it? Paramedic we placed on your task force after they were made mandatory. How's he, then? Still shacking up, I see." Cowell takes a step further, and Niall releases the safety on his gun. The click is barely heard over the rush of the cars passing by, passengers oblivious to what's happening on the side of the road.

Cowell pauses. "Now," he calls, and Niall can hear the grin in his voice. "You wouldn't shoot a colonel, would you?"

Breathing shakily, Niall squares his shoulders, widens his stance. Prepares himself for the kickback of the gun. "What do you want, Colonel?"

The colonel shrugs again. "Been looking for you, Captain. You're quite popular these days, you know. Quite valuable, as well." He takes a step. Niall places his finger on the trigger. "They've raised your bounty to a hundred grand, Captain. Can you believe that? One hundred grand for your skinny arse. It's cos of your skill set, of course, and your kill count. Quite talented, I always knew." He spreads his hands placatingly. "You can see why I'd like to bring you in myself."

Niall shakes his head. "Who's in the car."

"Oh, her?" Cowell turns as if he'd forgotten about his passenger. "Just a new recruit. She was drafted, like you, graduated just last week. Top of her class, but still never beat any of your scores. Other than your psych score, of course." Niall flinches at the mention of it. The only test he failed, and everyone knew about it within the hour. "She volunteered to come with me, devil knows why. Good company, though. Tells funny jokes."

A shuddery breath escapes Niall. Everyone knows what Cowell does with his 'volunteers,' but no one's ever stopped it. Yet another reason he hated the SFH.

"Can't let you bring us in, Colonel," Niall calls. Headlights blur into a single stream in his vision as the sun goes down, there's so many cars on the highway. "We've got somewhere to be."

"Ah, yes, that mutant hideaway of yours," Cowell says nonchalantly, picking at a cuticle. Niall tenses all over. "We've known about that for years, you know. It's not doing as well as we'd hoped, otherwise we'd have taken care of it long ago. Trying to let as many of the filth gather, see, without getting our own hands dirty. Then we can just take them all out at once. Saves time, and money. It's efficient."

As Niall's mind races with a million thoughts, all that keeps coming back to the front of his thoughts is Bressie, so proud of what he'd accomplished with what little he'd started with. His mam, and Jade, and Perrie, and Zayn and, of all people, Louis, who're all so content with where they've ended up, and who they've become. Proud of their tiny community and grateful for the support of the village just outside their walls. So certain they'll never be found, so long as they're quite and don't step out of line. And yet all this time, the very people they've been hiding from have known exactly where they were.

Wait. Actually -

"There's more of us than you think," Niall says, mind whirling just as fast, only in a different direction this time. "We've got more than one camp, or did you know that, too?"

Cowell actually laughs. "Oh, and to think you'd done so well with us! You've betrayed your own kind, and to add onto that you lie to protect the very people who'd sooner kill you than return the favor! You think they'd side with you, were they in your position? You've killed _hundreds_ of them, Horan. The only reason they put up with you is because of your freak mum, and your freak nephew. Don't embarrass yourself further by doing them any more favors, please." He takes yet another step. Niall shifts, rocking on his feet and adjusting his grip, only he can't bring himself to pull the trigger yet. "You've only got one camp, with only about a hundred fifty, hundred sixty outlaws? Down in Cork, yeah? We're not daft, Horan."

Niall sighs, heart racing, and nods. "Alright. Okay. I'm- I'm sorry, Colonel, it's just that," he half shrugs. "Well. I'm not, actually."

And he shoots Cowell.

*•*•*

"So if you and Niall are mates, why's it you never hang out?" Seamus asks, folded over the bar. His bum is barely touching the stool he's sitting on, feet twining around the bars. Liam has told him about fifteen times already to sit the right way or else he'll fall, but the kid's not listening.

Liam shrugs. "We got into a bit of a row, to be honest," he says. He putters around the kitchen, starting dinner for him and the kid, maybe even Louis if he shows up. It upsets him how easily he moves around in this flat already, after almost no time at all. "Not really sure how to move past it."

Seamus makes a face. "You're joking, right?" He laughs incredulously. Shaking his head, he turns to Craic, lounging on the floor, and jerks a thumb at Liam as if to say, _you hear this guy?_

"What?" Liam asks. Seamus snorts.

"Niall's told me about how close you were," he explains. Liam can't hide his surprise. "He told me you guys were like brothers, that he was closer to you than he ever was with his actual brother. So what, he shot you; you lived, and it was for the greater good, which is a concept you should be pretty familiar with." He runs a hand through his hair. "If - if I ever had a friendship like you guys do, I'd do whatever I could to 'move past' it."

Brows furrowed, Liam abandons his pots and pans and leans across the counter. "Are you saying you don't have friends?" He gets his answer once Seamus sits back in his seat, sheepish. "Seamus," Liam says warningly.

"I have friends!" He answers defensively. "And don't change the subject, Payne."

Liam makes a face. "Craic and other animals do not count."

"Oh." His expressions falls. "So what, I have no friends, it's not like there's a lot of options here, you know? There's like, two other kids here my age. And they don't even like animals." He shakes his head. "I spend most of my time trying to train this muppet just so I have something to do. I'm okay with no friends, I'm just saying that you should try to be a bit more appreciative of yours because not all of us have one like him."

Liam straightens, expression falling. "I - I guess you're right," he mumbles. Biting his lip, he shakes his head. "It's just - it's hard, you know? I went from hating people like you to being surrounded by them in less than a minute. It's a bit of an adjustment."

Expression grim, Seamus leans forward onto the counter. "A bit of an adjustment is having your parents taken away and being moved into a village no one can know exists. I think you can handle it."

*•*•*

Niall barely slows down to let Louis open the gate, pressing down onto the brakes just enough before speeding through. He can hear the tires screeching against the tarmac of the Compound, but he doesn't care. He takes the tight turns to get to the small car park, not slowing down, breathing heavily.

"Niall," Harry says quietly. He doesn't answer. "Niall." Still no. "Niall!"

"What?" he snaps, slamming down on the brakes. They stop right outside the small fence of the car park, both breathing heavily. He flinches when Harry places a hand on his shoulder.

"Niall," he murmurs gently, "we're fine. We're safe now, alright, we're fine." He gathers Niall into his arms, running his hands through his hair, and continues to repeat himself. Niall, breathing heavily, shakes his head. His vision is going dark, like it had earlier today, and he can't really find a way to bring himself back from that line, the one that stands between anxiety and, well, non-anxiety.

Niall shakes his head again. "I shot him," he gasps, "I shot him and I don't know if he's dead and - I shot him, Harry."

Harry's grip tightens. Niall finds himself grateful for it, grounding himself with the pain. "It doesn't matter if he's dead, Niall, because he's an asshole, anyway. You did the right thing; he would've hurt all of us if you hadn't done it."

A sharp rap on Niall's window startles them both, and they spring apart - Niall in shame of his anxiety and proximity to Harry, Harry in plain surprise - to see Zayn standing there, bushy brows furrowed. He says something, but the window dulls it enough that it's no more than a strange language. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Niall shuts off the car and steps out.

"What's going on?" Zayn asks. "Why'd you take so long?" His expression is concerned, but Niall's not worrying about that right now. He shakes his head.

"Where's Brez?" he asks, pushing past him. He can hear Zayn and Harry trailing after him, but doesn't care to slow down. He's got his mind set on telling Bressie everything he knows. He's in charge, he's got a right. He also needs to get going and come up with a plan to keep the fecking SFH away from everything he's made.

They burst through the doors of Town Hall, and immediately see Bressie in the conference room, where he always seems to be, hunched over a messy stack of papers. He's got one hand buried in his hair, the other clutching a pen, and he's half laid out on the table. With dark bags under his eyes and his hair a mess, Niall almost feel bad for bothering him.

He pushes open the door slowly, calling out, "Bressie."

The man looks up, eyes bleary, but he stands up straight when he sees the expression on Niall's face. "What is it?" When he spots Harry and Zayn behind him, he frowns. "What's going on?"

Niall sighs, shoulders tense.

"You might want to sit down for this."

*•*•*

As Niall explains the goings on of their day, Bressie grows paler, tenser. He sits up straighter, and when Niall mentions being stopped by Cowell, he grows a few more sizes. His shirt tears at the seams and Niall can hear his shoes ripping, but Bressie either doesn't notice or doesn't care. The pen in his hand snaps, ink splattering over his hand and across the table. Niall falters in his speech, a bit frightened, but powers through. Bressie won't hurt him, he tells himself. He's one of the good guys.

When he's finished, Bressie runs a hand through his hair, smearing ink through it. "Shit," he mutters. "I - I knew they had intel on us, but I. I never knew it was so much." He groans, tugging on his hair. He shakes his head. "Maura said we'd be safe for another year, at _least_ , she -"

"Wait, wait," Niall interrupts. "Me mam knows about this? How?"

Bressie opens his mouth to reply, but is once again interrupted, only this time it's by Liam bursting through the door, followed by Louis and a ginger haired boy Niall recognizes but can't remember the name of. They all look curious and a bit frazzled, as if they've eaten a kilo of sweets and are still riding the sugar high. Their eyes are gleaming, they're all bouncing a bit on their toes. Niall's shocked to think that Liam has let his guard down enough to get high on sugar with Louis, of all people.

Liam steps forward, a look in his eye that brings Niall back to the moments right before storming the flat of some mutant outlaw. "We heard something was going on. Captain - or, Niall, rather, um. What is it?"

Unsure of his position in this situation, Niall looks to Bressie, who nods. He briefly retells his story, keeping his gaze locked with Liam's. It's familiar, going through the details of important intel with him. Liam's his first lieutenant; this is something he has no issue with.

When he's finished, Liam nods.

"We should get started with an evac plan, set up a more elaborate patrol. We need to be on guard, now; if they've told Niall then they have no reason to hold off any longer. Especially if he's shot a colonel."

Harry scoffs, muttering, "He deserved it."

"Even so," Liam says, ever the pacifier, "we need to come with up plans, a through z, or else we'll never be prepared. We'll never see them coming."

Bressie stands, and his shirt falls off his shoulders. Niall feels his cheeks grow red and fights to keep his gaze away. He feels a hand grip his, jumps away and glances at Harry with wide eyes. He looks back, confused, mouths _what?_ and looks back to Bressie, who's saying something to Liam. The only other person by him is Zayn, but - Niall cuts a glance at him and finds Zayn already staring back at him, bushy brows furrowed and hazel eyes filled with concern. Niall slowly looks down, sees his hand held out questioningly, and inhales sharply, head jerking up. He forces himself to tune back into the conversation.

"- come up with some strategies to keep us protected, meanwhile we'll have everyone on lockdown," Bressie is saying. His chest is on full display, and he doesn't seem to care so Niall tries not to either. "No one leaves their homes for anything except an emergency; that means no gardens, no footy outside - I don't care if they're going stir crazy, they don't walk out their front doors."

Louis's face is set, determined, and the ginger boy - Sean, is it? - is repeating everything into the ear of a dog Niall hasn't noticed until now. Liam looks ready to don his fatigues and bust some doors down. Maybe this will help him, Niall thinks. His favorite thing is making sure he's keeping people safe and protected; maybe this will help him settle in and find his place here on the Compound.

Bressie finishes speaking, and the boys all make to leave, Niall following, but Bressie puts a hand on his shoulder before he can exit the door. He glances up at the taller man - now back to his normal size - confused. The last time he had a private conversation with Bressie the other man threatened to get rid of him if he brought any danger, and now look where they are. Niall shoves down the irrational fear that he's about to be publicly executed. It's not the eighteen hundreds, he tells himself. People don't just do that anymore.

"Needed to ask you something, chief," Bressie says, voice gruff with stress and lack of sleep. Niall nods. "Are you ready for this?" Seeing Niall's confused expression, he elaborates. "Are you ready to do whatever it may take to keep everyone here safe? Fighting, if it comes to that, or anything else? Because I've heard some things, from your mam and from Harry. You've got serious anxiety, chief. I've seen it meself, and I don't want that to get in the way of protecting everything we've built here." The grip he has on Niall's shoulder tightens, almost painfully. "So are you ready for this?"

And Niall can't really find an answer to that. Is he ready? Probably not, to be completely honest. The only thing that has kept him sane for this long is the pretense of still being back on base, screwing around with Harry every free chance they got, Liam frowning disapprovingly from across the canteen when Harry cheekily gropes his bum. He's barely even spent any time with Theo or his mam, even though the former is the only reason he's here to stay.

He's never really been ready for anything though, has he? Wasn't ready for Greg to bring home that mutant bird, for him to blame Niall for her death the next day. Wasn't ready for Craig to kiss him the first time, wasn't ready to have that moment, the one where he realized that he's bent when he should be straight. Wasn't ready for the crisis that came after that, wasn't ready to be drafted, wasn't ready for his first kill, wasn't ready to kill more, wasn't ready for Harry wasn't ready for killing children wasn't ready for Theo to be a mutant wasn't ready to desert wasn't ready for Greg and Denise to die wasn't ready to come here and stay wasn't ready to get Harry back wasn't ready wasn't wasn't ready

Wasn't ready to do a complete one eighty and go fucking insane because of it.

But that wasn't the question, was it, the question was if he was ready for this. No one's asking about his issues, his past. It's about now, protecting his family and the people here who call him mate and not ironically and the kids he's teaching to play guitar and the people he drove here with the person he was before.

The question is if he's ready to go against the people who made him kill innocents for no reason.

And the answer?

(Because Bressie is staring at him, gaze steady and questioning, still waiting for an answer, because he did ask a question, didn't he, it's what pushed Niall into this descending spiral of dark thoughts no one needs to know he has.)

(But the answer?)

Meeting Bressie's gaze, Niall can feel his jaw harden, feel the tension flow through his limbs and tighten his stance.

He nods.

"I'm ready for this."

*•*•*

Zayn's waiting for him when he gets back to the flat. He's got Theo sleeping on his shoulder, drooling a tad onto his shirt but Zayn doesn't seem to mind. Niall knows there's a conversation waiting for him here, so he resigns himself to it and sits next to Zayn on the couch. He carefully pulls Theo off him, holding the babe in his own lap instead.

"Say it, then," he sighs. Zayn nods.

"Alright. I don't think you should help with the preparations to protect the Compound." At Niall's incredulous look, he shrugs. "You're already stressed out with - other issues, and I don't think you should have to worry about everything at once. Plus, you're likely to try and take charge, just because it's what you're used to, and it'll stress you out even more. You've got a kid to raise; he should be your sole focus right now."

Brows raised, Niall nods. "You're not wrong. What're my issues, then?"

Startled, Zayn blushes. Niall ignores the interested tug in the pit of his stomach, ignores that the color of Zayn's skin perfectly allows for a red tinge to be distracting. He's a pretty guy, but Niall doesn't have to drool after him for it.

Zayn clears his throat. "Um, well, you're - you're gay, so. There's that."

Niall can feel himself close off, expression dropping into a blank one, and he stands. "Don't know what you're talking about, mate."

Following suit, Zayn scoffs. "I beg to differ, _mate_. That thing with the cake? With Harry? And I saw how you were looking at Brez earlier. Not to mention every time you go out to meet Harry you come back smelling like sex."

This is not going as Niall would have liked. Shaking his head, he makes towards his room. Zayn follows, on a roll.

"Listen, I get it, alright, it's a big thing to admit, scary. But it's fine, I'm - I'm cool with it." Niall ignores him, keeps walking. "In - in fact, I know what you're going through, I mean, imagine how hard it must have been for me to come out to my entire family, some of who are very religious, by the way, like," he laughs awkwardly, "you would not _believe_ how religious they can be -" at Niall's unimpressed gaze, he stammers on. "But that's not the point, it's - I just want you to know you can talk to me about it, you know, I just...want you to feel safe." He trails off, quiet and unsure, and when Niall turns back to him he's got a hand on his neck, staring at his shoes.

This could be it, Niall thinks, the moment he actually says it out loud, for the first time. But he can't. Not with Theo in his arms and his mam in possible danger. This isn't the right moment, if there even is such a thing. Not tonight.

He takes a shake breath, steps into his room.

"Good night, Zayn."

That night, he muffles his cries as much as he can, so as not to wake up Theo.

He's got so much shite to worry about right now.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We've never been safe, not since we've been born."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is way overdue and im so sorry like i honestly don't even have an excuse especially for how short this is compared to other chapters but yeah im so so so sorry you deserve better :(((

**What Happened**

"Just go, Lou," Jay wheezes. Louis shakes his head, sniffling. He can hear the soldiers behind him yelling, can feel their bullets ricocheting off his force field.

"I can't just leave you here, mum," he chokes out. Jay smiles weakly.

"You can, babe," she murmurs. "You have to."

And suddenly she's exhaling one last time, deep and shuddering, and her eyes are staring at Louis but not seeing him. He cries out once, harshly, and covers his mouth with a fist. He feels a soldier pound on his force field with the handle of their gun, and sniffs. Swiping a hand underneath his eyes, he takes a deep breath, centering his focus.

Then he lets go.

A ball of force escapes him with an anguished cry and it bursts like a bubble, shoving the SFH soldiers away as if they were leaves in a wind. He can see them crash into trees and into each other, but he doesn't care if they're hurt. They obviously don't care about whether or not he's hurt. Seeing as, well, they're trying to kill him.

He keeps the bubble around himself as he stands and surveys the clearing. There's no way he can get through without having to hurt more of the soldiers. He breaths in harshly through his nose, clearing his mind, and makes a run for it. The bubble pushes away anyone who tries to get too close to him as he tears across the clearing and into the trees. He can see branches and twigs and leaves flying away from him as he runs, and he finds himself thankful that he doesn't have to deal with the scratches the branches were sure to give him.

When he makes it back to the car, Louis slams the key into the ignition and starts the engine. Without looking back, he tears out of the field they'd parked in and speeds towards the highway. He can hear the bullets pinging against the bubble he still has up, but he ignores the sounds.

One Louis makes it onto the highway, he presses down on the pedal and races home.

Fortunately, the SFH haven't identified the family yet, so his house is safe for the moment. He leaves the car running as he dashes inside and through the house, grabbing a bag of clothes and food and gathering up all the loose cash he finds. There's one drawer in his mum's nightstand, with a fake bottom, that she doesn't - didn't - know he knows about. He pries it up with a nail file - pink and sparkly, was a gift from Daisy for Jay's birthday - and pulls out the envelope marked _emergencies_. It's hefty, the envelope creased and crinkly with age, but Louis's not sure just how much is there.

When he's sure he's got everything he could need, he runs back to the car and locks himself in it. He takes a moment to calm himself, to bring the bubble down again, to breathe. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but he blinks them away. Behind his eyelids the scene replays in front of him, soldiers bursting from the trees and gunshots ringing through the air. His sisters falling, screaming, Daniel throwing himself onto Johanna and being kicked back by a soldier. The toddlers not understanding, a woman in black armor stepping up to them and -

Louis sobs, punching the steering wheel. Gritting his teeth and breathing on harshly, he pulls out of the driveway and drives.

*•*•*

Honestly, he has no idea how he's ended up in Ireland, of all places. He's lost his car, had to ditch it when his face started popping up on the news, and now he's stuck walking through kilometers of countryside in fucking _Ireland_ , of all places.

Huffing, Louis kicks at a rock. "Smells like shit," he mutters.

"I'm sorry, have you got some air fresheners, then?" a voice asks. He jumps, twisting.

There's a girl, blonde, standing with her hip cocked and her head tilted. She seems extremely out of place, skinny jeans and heels in the middle of nowhere, makeup perfectly done. Looking fresh off a catwalk.

Louis scoffs. "No, sorry, Miss Universe, I'm fresh out, actually. You look well stocked, though, so you should be fine, yeah?" He waves, turning again. "Bye."

And he promptly runs into a wooden wall. He shouts, stumbling back, scrambling so as not to fall and whips his head to the blonde, eyes wide. Smirking, she waves her hand and the wall falls, disappearing. She takes a step toward him.

"What's a Brit doing in the middle of Cork, eh?" she asks, pacing around him. He turns with her, not wanting to turn his back on the stranger. "Not very usual, is it?"

"Well," Louis says slowly, "I figured it was the best way to disappear, yeah, seeing's as no one really cares about who or what is in Ireland."

The girl barks a laugh, nodding. "Nice one, mate," she says, "but really." She comes to a stop, suddenly serious. "Who are you?"

Swallowing, Louis glances away. "I - I can tell you're a mutant, yeah, so I'm gonna trust you with this. I'm a mutant too, and I'm on the run."

The girl doesn't even blink. "From who."

"Who do you fucking think, the SFH!" Louis cries, throwing a hand out. She takes a step back. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to yell. It's just, my family, they. They've been -"

"Killed," the girls says, grave. She nods, once, as if confirming something. "Alright, come with me, then."

Brows furrowing, Louis pulls his head back. "What, why?"

Eyebrows raised, the girls walks backwards to a car hidden by the tall grass. He hadn't even noticed it till now. "I'm sorry, have you got somewhere better to be?" She scoffs and turns, not checking to see if he's following.

He is.

*•*•*

They pull up in front of a tall gate, two guard types standing outside it with handguns in holsters wrapped around their waists. Laura - because that's her name, the girl who found him - waves a hand at them, and they pull the gate open. Laura drives them through a small village, no more than a few buildings up, and stops in front of a building that could be straight out of a storybook. _Town Hall_ , it says, right on the wall above the doors. Louis scoffs.

"You build this, then?" he drawls, because that's what she does, make things into something else and build with them. Can turn a rock into a wall and a wall into a rock.

Rolling her head towards him, Laura stares, unimpressed. "Yes, actually. Why, do you think you could do better?"

"Might do," he mutters, leaning forward and staring at the building.

The double doors open, revealing a big guy in flannel - _fucking Irish,_ Louis can't help but think - who jogs down the steps.

Laura climbs out of the car, and Louis scrambles to follow her, bag still on his back. She approaches the big guy, hugs him tight and laughs at something he says. When she mutters something in his ear, he looks up at Louis, who stares back.

"Hey," the guy says, walking up to him. "I'm Bressie. I hope Laura's treated you well."

Louis shrugs. "Debatable." He holds out a hand, because his mum taught him his manners, thank you very much. "I'm Louis."

Bressie smiles, taking it. His grip is firm, and Louis has to respect that. "Great. Well, uh, this is our humble abode." He gestures to the few buildings and grasslands around them.

"Welcome to the Compound."

**What's Going On**

"We're on lockdown, and you invite a child to stay with us?" Louis asks, appalled. He gapes, pointing at the kid, who's sitting on the couch. "And his dog?"

Liam shrugs. "His aunt and uncle are arguing again; you really think that's the best place to be stuck in for an indefinite amount of time?" His bushy brows push together. Louis usually quite likes Liam's bushy brows, but right now they only serve to annoy him. "I just didn't feel right leaving him there."

The dog barks quietly. Louis blinks slowly, staring at it.

"Excuse me?" he drawls. The dog barks again, one paw shooting forward in a soft stomp. Louis looks to the kid. "What's it saying, then?"

The kid shrugs. "Says Liam's right, and you're smelly." He holds his hands up on defense when Louis's eyes widen, his posture straightening. "Don't shoot the messenger, alright."

Looking back to Liam, Louis waves a hand at the kid and his dog again. "You can't just bring strays into a house that doesn't even belong to you!"

"Well," Liam says slowly, head bobbing, "technically, it is partly mine, now, seeing as I live here too, and also, see. This is a flat. Not a house. So." He grins brightly, then waves his hands placatingly. "Just - we'll stay out of your way, alright? I'll clean up after the dog and I'll make sure they're both fed. Is that okay with you?"

Louis pauses, eyes narrowed. "Fine," he deadpans. "But if I find any dog shit or piss anywhere in here, they're out."

Liam, the total knob, holds out a crooked pinky. Louis stares at it. "What's that, then?"

"Pinky promise," Liam says, and normally Louis would ignore a grown man trying to make a deal with him through pinky, but damn it if Liam isn't the most sincere grown man ( _strange_ man, really) he's ever met. Rolling his eyes, Louis hooks his own pinky around Liam's.

He grins again, meeting Louis's gaze.

"Nice."

*•*•*

It's been three days. Three days and there's been no word from Bressie as to whether or not they're all about to die, or if they can leave their home yet. It's frustrating, is all Louis thinks of it, especially considering how he likes knowing exactly what's going on outside his walls. Usually he's at the gate all day, talking with the law enforcement of their neighboring village about how things are looking in the outside world, if it's getting any better or worse. The village is cluttered enough that, while passing by, one wouldn't even notice the Compound. They would just see it and its farmland as a part of the village.

Which is, of course, exactly how Bressie designed it. _Peace of mind,_ he'd told Louis on his first day. _This way we'll have a few extra seconds if anyone dangerous ever comes passing through._

Right now, though, it gives Louis no peace of mind, sitting on the couch with his knee being kept warm by the head of a dog. A dog that ain't even his. A dog whose owner is, in fact, taking a kip in Louis's bed right now.

Sighing, Louis jostles his unoccupied knee. "What's the deal with your mate, anyway?" he asks Liam, rubbing between Craic's ears. What a name for a dog. _Fucking Irish,_ he thinks.

"Um, Seamus? Well, his aunt and uncle -"

"No," Louis groans. "Niall. Blond. SFH. Wanted. Basically you but Irish. And gay."

Liam's cheek slowly fill with color, which Louis finds. Interesting. He picks his head up off the back of the couch, eyebrow raised, intrigued. Purposefully, Liam looks away.

"I could be gay," he mutters.

Grinning delightedly, Louis laughs once, sharply. Craic's eyes dart between him and Liam. "Really now. Are you, then?"

Stubbornly, Liam settles deeper into his armchair, arms folded on his chest. He tips his head back and closes his eyes, feigning nonchalance.

"Maybe."

Louis leans forward, careful not to bother the pup. "No no no, you can't do that. Straightforward answer, Leemo, that's what I want. Are you bent?"

Grimacing, Liam opens his eyes and glances over. "Not - not really? I've just kind of, I dunno. I got no preference. Boys, girls, in between. It's all the same to me. A person's a person, right."

Gaping, Louis laughs breathily. "Are you telling me you're a hearts not parts type of knob? Really? You? But you're such a - a man's man. Big and buff and lots of facial hair. Tattoos and all that."

Liam frowns. "You've got tattoos. Facial hair. And I guess, if that's how you want to put it. I just - if they're of age and consenting, I don't care." He pushes his brows together. "And single. Or in an open relationship. Otherwise things can get messy and -"

"Oh my god," Louis cries. "You're - I bet you've been to Pride parades, haven't you?" Shrugging, Liam mutters something and sinks deeper into his chair. "I'm sorry, what was that, I couldn't quite hear you?"

With a groan, Liam places his hands over his face, bashful. "Yes. I've been to one Pride parade. With Harry. But it was years ago."

Sitting back and feeling quite proud of himself, Louis grins. "Nice. I went to one myself, with my first boyfriend. Kind of ironically, we broke up the next day."

"No," Liam gasps. "You're joking, right?" Louis shakes head. Liam grimaces again. "Ouch."

Louis opens his mouth to answer, but then a chime rings out from his landline. Shooing the dog away, he stands and crosses the room, to where the landline sits on the kitchen counter. The caller ID says it's Bressie. Frowning, Louis answers.

"What is it, boss?"

"I just got some news from Maura," Bressie sighs. "There's a convoy of SFH vehicles headed our way. About fifteen trucks, packed with soldiers." Louis can practically see the big guy rubbing his brow in worry. "We've gotta set up a meeting, like, right now. We need to plan something, I don't know."

Glancing back at Liam, Louis bites his lip. "Should I bring Liam, then?"

Bressie sighs. "Yeah. I'll let Zayn know to bring Niall, as well. It'll be good, having some intel from the inside. Be here in five, and don't be obvious, yeah? We're still not sure if they've got surveillance on us." He says a brief goodbye and hangs up.

Sighing, Louis turns to Liam, who's watching openly, a curious tilt to his head.

"We've gotta go. Council meeting, and uh. Your presence is requested."

Liam sits forward. "What's going on?"

With a shrug, Louis grabs a jacket. "You'll see."

*•*•*

They've been sat around the table - the Round Table, Louis's taken to calling it - pitching different ways to protect the Compound, different ways to fight back without having to get their hands dirty. Bressie rejects them all, though.

Louis's stopped trying to come up with something, stopped paying attention, and is occupying his time now with trying to distract Liam. He counts three wet willys, four doodles on his arm, and at least ten pieces of paper stuck in his hair. None has yet succeeded in bothering Liam enough to do more than brush Louis off.

It's always refreshing to find someone who doesn't tire of Louis's antics.

He glances across the table, making sure no one is paying attention enough to scold him, when Niall catches his eye. He's sat between Harry - which, why is he even _here_ , he's just a medic - and Zayn, looking well miserable. Louis can't help but be interested. The kid is sat between two good looking guys both pining for his attention - has Zayn started pining yet? He usually gets right on it - and he's upset. The kid is a - what's the word?

Scoffing, Louis turns back to Liam. As if he cares. He doesn't. He doesn't care that Zayn is muttering something quietly to Niall, doesn't care that Niall's shoving his arm to get him to say it out loud.

Louis looks over again to see Niall nudging Zayn's shoulder. "Tell 'em. Tell them what you told me." He says it loud enough to get everyone's attention. He nods his head at he group, ignoring the irritated look Zayn shoots him. "Go ahead."

The entire group is looking now, and Zayn sighs. "I was just saying that, you know, I think we should just fight back. We've got enough warrior types here anyway; might as well put them to use." He rolls his eyes at the appalled looks everyone gives him. "Not like - nothing too violent, yeah? No kids, elderly, the like. And we'd only do just enough to show them that we won't be pushed around anymore, that we won't be taken and we won't give up."

Liam perks up. "That's actually s really good idea. The SFH like big shows of strength, it's like candy for them. If you show that you're stronger than them, they're likely to back down. They don't like knowing they haven't got the upper hand."

"Wait," Harry says, laughing disbelievingly. "Are we talking about the same SFH here? Because if I remember correctly, they went up against some operation very similar to this one like, nine months ago. You do remember, don't you?" When no one answers, he sits forward, arms spread out over the table. "It was like, eighty of them, all hiding out in some old school. They were peaceful, right up until the moment the SFH started knocking. They showed force, and they were slaughtered." Harry looks around the table. "Eighty of them. All ages, genders, whatever, they were all killed, for doing _exactly_ what you're saying, Zayn."

Next to him, Niall's cheek flush, and he sinks further into his seat. Louis cocks an eyebrow. He'll have to ask Liam about that later. Speaking to Niall is still too awkward. Turns out trying to kill people is not considered a good thing, even if you had good intentions. Like Louis did. Whatever.

Bressie sighs, pulling both Louis and Niall out of their respective strops. "What're we to do, then, eh? Can't show force, or we'll die. Can't show peace, or we'll die. We'll be slaughtered either way. What's - what's the fecking _point_." The pen is his hand snaps. He scoffs, tossing the remains in a bin placed by his chair for that very reason. (It was Louis's idea, and he's quite proud of it. Bressie breaks things a lot.) Laura passes him a tissue box from the center of the table so he can wipe the ink off his hands. (Also Louis's idea.)

"Well," Jade hums. She stands, adjusting her doctor's coat. "I guess I might as well just turn myself in now, then. It was nice, being a part of this. For whatever that's worth." She leans down and places a kiss on one very confused Perrie's lips. "I love you, sunshine," she murmurs.

Everyone watches silently as she strides to the glass door, and just as her fist is closing around the knob, Zayn - surprisingly - calls out, "What are you _doing_?"

"Oh thank _god_ someone said something, that would've been embarrassing," Jade snaps, turning around. "I'm trying to make a point, you guys. If we give up now, stop trying to figure a way out of this, then we might as well just save the SFH the petrol and march right to them." She takes a step further into the room, away from the door. "You all need to realize; it's not just a bunch of mutants we're trying to save. It's a village, a life. A home. These people are happy here, they're thriving in a way they never would have out there, in the real world." She points at the wall. "They're all counting on us to be the people who - who deliver them to safety. We're their metaphorical Moses, yeah, and they're the Israelites. The SFH? They're the Egyptians. And the Compound is the fucking promised land. We give that up, and we're burning down the promised land ourselves."

Louis clears his throat, raising a hand. Jade sighs, blinking slowly at him. "So, in this metaphor, is Ireland the Red Sea? Because we have technically parted it with our magical powers to, ah, deliver the people." He raises his brows meaningfully. "You know."

"If I say yes, will you stop talking?" Jade deadpans. Louis shrugs.

"You can try it," he laughs.

Without answering, Jade sinks back into her seat, hands held out expectantly. "You all do see what it is I'm trying to say, yeah?"

Nodding, Bressie tosses his handful of tissues into the bin. He stands. "We need time on this. How's that sound? I give you a few days, you think over it, we come back and share ideas. Good?" He looks around the table, meeting eyes with everyone.

"Um," says Niall, speaking for the first time. "If the SFH is already on their way, we might not have a few days. Not to figure out a plan and then, if we agree on it, practice and then execute it. I'd say the latest we should meet again is like, tomorrow. Morning."

Bressie nods again. "Alright. So you've all got the rest of tonight to figure it out. I'm counting on you because, honestly, I'm lost. I've never had to deal with this before. And I know you all haven't either - or, at least most of us haven't. So, please, just. Don't let me down."

Sighing, he rubs a huge hand over his brow. "No, that was - I'm sorry. You're not - warriors, or battle strategists. You're a, a mum, and a teacher, and fake doctor." He waves at Maura, Willie, and Jade, respectively. Louis stifles a laugh at Jade's expression. "I'm placing the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it's not fair of me. I just -"

"We get it, Brez," Laura says kindly. She stands, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We know. You're worried, and of course you've got every right to be, but you're not the only one. I've got family here, too. Maura's got three generations inside these walls. Willie's got a whole village worth of students out there. We know. And we're ready, aren't we?" She turns to the table, addressing them now. "Tomorrow, we're bringing our biggest and brightest ideas to the table. We're not giving up, not yet. We'll figure it out. We're going to be fine."

Shifting in his seat, Louis eyes Laura thoughtfully. That was a nice speech. Usually it's Jade who handles all that stuff, whenever Bressie isn't feeling up to it, as the second in command here. Louis sometimes wonders how she gained the title, when Laura's been here longer, has known Bressie for years.

The group nods, sounds of agreement filling the room, and Laura nods. "Right then. Head on home, all of you, and be back by nine tomorrow. No later."

Dismissed, everyone stands, heading their separate ways. Louis sees Maura pull Niall aside, and uses it as his opportunity to sneak in a chat with Zayn. Scurrying around the table, he grabs Zayn's arm and pulls him into the corner of the room. Unfazed, Zayn blinks at Louis, big eyes passive.

"Have you made a move on the captain, yet?" Louis asks. He's not one for preamble.

Zayn blinks again. "What's that mean."

Shrugging, Louis makes a vague hand motion. "You know. Have you made a move. The kid's just your type; blond, blue eyed, smile like sunshine, and a laugh like angel's singing. I mean, he's Perrie, but with a dick. Haven't you got some sort of ex syndrome going on yet?"

Shaming his head, Zayn runs a hand through his hair. "See, normally that would be true, and I would feign offense, but. This is different. Niall's got some - some issues, I dunno, like. I feel kind of guilty, thinking of him like that when he's got so much going on. I mean, he's still grieving his brother. They were never very close, but he still seems to be taking it kind of hard. Also, I think -"

"Yeah, no," Louis interrupts, holding up a hand. "Don't care. I just wanted to know if you'd boned yet. Obviously, the answer is no. This conversation is over now."

Zayn gapes after him as he walks away, arms spread in confusion. Louis grabs onto Liam's arm, dragging him away from a somber-looking conversation with Harry. He squawks, stumbling after him. He hears him call an aborted goodbye, and snorts. Fucking SFH types. Always so loyal.

*•*•*

"Why don't you hate me," Louis asks that night, as they're sat at the table eating. Seamus looks up, eyes wide, and Liam freezes, fork stuck stabbing into his hash. His eyes slowly roll up, head still facing the table but his gaze meeting Louis's own. His mouth is open.

Cocking his head, Louis repeats the question.

"Um," says Liam, glancing at Seamus. "Any particular reason you're asking me this? Now?"

Louis shrugs. It's something he's been thinking about ever since he and Liam got hopped up on some sugar canes the kid gave them, why Liam's been acting civil and even friendly towards him when he almost killed his best friend. Almost killed his best friend and got him shot, indirectly. It doesn't make sense, not in Louis's book. Hell, Niall had no connection to the soldiers who killed his family, probably wasn't even through with his training by that time, and Louis blamed it all on him.

"Well," Liam says slowly. "Um, I just think that since we're all, you know, on the same side now, we should act like it. Be good with each other, cos we're all each other has." Brows furrowed, he shakes his head down at his plate. "You've lost your family, and I haven't spoken to mine in years, even though I want to every day. We can - relate to each other, almost? We're both soldiers, we just haven't been fighting for the same cause until recently. So, yeah, you tried to kill Niall which led me to getting shot, but you had a good reason. I probably would've done the same, if I were in your position. So. Yeah."

Making a face, Seamus stands, taking his plate to the sink. As he washes up, he says, "Honestly, you grown ups make things so complicated. Why can't we all just - be nice? Allies, yeah? Mutant or not, we're all human, you know?" He shrugs, setting his plate on the drying rack. "But, that's just the opinion of a kid, and a mutant one at that. I know how little they matter when it comes to the adult stuff." He whistles sharply, and Craic jumps off the couch and patters to his side. "Night."

They watch him as he disappears up into the loft level of the flat, and turn back to each other when he's gone.

"At times," Liam says, "I feel like he might be the smartest person in this entire village."

*•*•*

They spend the rest of the night trying to come up with a plan to keep the Compound safe, but fall short every time. Liam draws on his time in the force, and Louis draws on his minimal experience with the force. It takes up most of the night, and almost everything one of them says results in them bickering for a half hour.

("We could all leave," Liam says at one point, and Louis's only response is the throw a pillow at him.)

("Fighting back _could_ work," Louis suggests. "We get those of us who have got mutations that can be used in battle, and we hash it out like men."

"That's offensive to women," Liam says lightly. "Might as well just tell the women that they'll be pointing guns in the air and screaming insults at each other all day."

"What the fuck are you even saying," Louis deadpans. Liam just stares at him blankly.

"I'm saying no.")

(At sometime around three in the morning, Liam straightens in his seat and stares at Louis like he's grown a second head.

"What?" Louis snaps. "Never heard of a political sit down?"

Liam just stands and says goodnight.)

*•*•*

The next morning, Louis and Liam stride into the conference room with confidence. The plan Louis had come up with was mediocre at best, but they knew it was loads better than anything else they thought of. They take their seats, and wait for Bressie to start the meeting.

"Alright," he says, towering over the rest of them. "According to Maura, the convoy is about - how far?" He turns to Maura, who opens a thin folder laying in front of her.

"About six hours away. That's not counting for if they stop for any reason," she answers.

Niall frowns. "Why's it taking so long? If we found out last night that they're on their way, then technically speaking they should be here by now."

Maura shrugs. "They stopped for rest last night. Other than that, I don't know."

"How do you know all this anyway?" Willie asks curiously.

"Police chief in the village lets me have a listen to his radio sometimes," she says. "They mentioned it on a broadcast, said they wanted to give a warning to all law enforcement that they're coming through."

"Strangely considerate of them," Niall mutters. "Must be trying to gain traction. Otherwise they'd have just come barging in."

Jade frowns. "What do you mean?"

"He means that the more people they have behind them on this, the less likely we are to live," Harry scoffs. He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. "If they've got public support, civilians who step forward and say _no, actually, we_ don't _want a village of mutants living in our country,_ then they've got more power to remove us."

"He's right," Liam sighs. "I've seen this before, we all have. There's nothing stronger than public opinion."

"What a bright outlook on our situation," Perrie chimes. "Might as well just throw in the towel now, eh?"

"No," Bressie says. Everyone looks to him. "I want to hear the plans you've come up with."

They go around the table, clockwise. Louis notes happily that he and Liam will be last.

Maura says to lay low. Play dead until the SFH get bored of waiting around and leave. Niall refutes it quickly by mentioning that the SFH don't get bored. She pinches him, says, "You're not supposed to tell your mam when she's wrong."

Laura says they should build a defense. She outlines a vague picture, her and Louis and a few of the other building type mutants making a stronger wall. Liam just has to say the words _rocket launcher_ and she shuts up.

Willie mentions leaving. Reminds Bressie of some farmland his uncle or something owns that they could make into a new Compound. Bressie shoots this one down himself. Says that the Compound is their home, and moving it will just not do.

Niall and Zayn stick with fighting. Name a few of the more powerful mutants that could take on the challenge. Harry says no, flat out. Doesn't even give an explanation.

Speaking of, Harry says to just tell the SFH to shove it. It is, needless to say, ignored.

Jade and Perrie suggest sending representatives to the SFH to plead their case, and Liam stiffens. Louis understands why; this was their plan as well.

When it's their turn, Louis shrugs. "Same," he says. "A sit down with their boss and ours. You hash it out, convince them that we're not all bad, that we deserve to live just as much as they do. They'd respect it, I mean. It's playing by their rules, innit?"

Brow furrowed, Niall glares at the tabletop. Louis sighs.

"I'm sorry, Captain, does this bother you?" he drawls.

Shaking his head, Niall sticks a finger into his mouth, chewing on a nail. "No. It's actually pretty ingenious. It's showing them that we're just as civilized as they are, even if they don't think so. And it's never been done before, so just the initial shock of it will get them to agree to a sit down." He looks up, meeting Louis's gaze. "It's a really good idea."

Slightly shocked by his genuineness, Louis brightens. "Thanks," he says happily. Always nice to hear someone you don't like say you're a genius. However indirectly so.

Tapping a pen on the table, Bressie nods. "Nice. But who would we send?" Everyone stares at him, waiting for him to figure it out. "Okay, okay," he concedes, palms up. "But who else? They're not going to listen to just one of us. We need a group, at least three of us. So me, and who else?"

"I'll go," says Jade. She shrugs. "I am your second. They might find the fact that we've got a chain of command respectable."

Bressie nods. "Alright. So who's our third?"

Perrie laughs, covering her face with her hand. Slowly, they all quiet down until all that can be heard is her tittering, all eyes on her. Eventually, she stops to catch her breath. "Isn't it obvious?" she gasps. "How about the whole damn reason this has all started, eh?"

As if a switch has been flicked, all heads turn to Niall, who avoids all their gazes. He stares up at the ceiling, expression passive. Annoyed, Maura rolls her eyes and smacks him, reaching over Harry to do so, who snickers. Maura smacks him too.

"Heyyy," he whines. Sighing, Niall brings his gaze back down.

"Fine," he mumbles. "I guess I'll go."

Scoffing, Louis rocks back in his seat, bouncing. "No, please, don't strain yourself coming to our defense, _Captain_ ," he drawls. "Not like we're in this predicament cos of you, anyway, no need to race to be a part of the solution to the problem you created."

"Louis," Zayn says quietly.

"No, Zed," Louis snaps. "He needs to hear this." He turns back to Niall. "You shouldn't act so indifferent to being chosen for this little expedition when it's your fault. I bet if you hadn't shot that fucking colonel then we wouldn't even be here right now. We'd be allowed outside of our own damn houses and not cooped up for an indefinite amount of time."

"That's enough, Lou," Bressie murmurs.

"No," Niall says. The room quiets completely. "He's right. This is all my fault. If I'd just - stayed out of it from the beginning, none of this would have happened. My - my brother was headed here anyway, he just asked me to come with him to protect Theo. If I hadn't come, he'd still be alive, and his wife, and you'd all be safe right now. It's my fault."

Laura scoffs derisively. "We've never been safe, Horan, not since we've been born. Don't give yourself so much credit, really."

"My point still stands," Niall mutters.

"On two rickety legs with bum knees, maybe," Laura snips.

Niall gapes. "I'm feeling personally attacked right now."

Snorting, Harry rubs a finger over his eye. "Have you still got two bum knees, then, Ni?"

"What?" Maura interrupts, placing her hands flat on the table. "Since when have you got two bum knees, Niall James?"

"Since when do we bring personal problems to the council meetings?" Louis snaps. "How about we just all say what kind of ailments we've got, eh? I'll start: my family's dead with the closest thing I've got to a replacement not far behind, and everyone's taking this as some sort of goddam _joke_!" He shoots to his feet, chair shooting out from beneath him much more forcefully than would be natural.

Everyone is staring at him, but he can't be arsed to care.

"I'm not going to sit by and watch you all dissolves into giggles over the prick who got us into this mess in the first place," he growls.

And he leaves, slamming the door hard enough behind him that the glass breaks.

*•*•*

It is, of course, Niall who finds him, and they are, of course, on the beach. Louis is extremely aware of his love for clichés. They're one of his most and least favorite things. It's quite ironic.

There's a dull thud where Niall drops onto the sand next to him, legs crossed and knees propped up by the crooks of his arms. He sighs heavily, then chuckles to himself.

"That sounded heavy," he says to himself.

Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Knob."

"Yeah," Niall sighs. "I am, aren't I? Ever since I got here I've been making it about me. And now that something has actual reason to be about me, I'm whining like a baby. I'm such a knob."

Brows furrowed, Louis keeps quiet. He's not sure where Niall is going with this, and is quite curious to find out.

"You were right back there, you know," Niall mumbles. "I shot Cowell for me, not for the rest of you, and I didn't stop to think of what the consequences would be. It's my fault that convoy is on its way, so I should be much more eager to try and fix this."

Louis nods stiffly. He doesn't want to say anything, is still too pissed off to really trust himself. He's only barely holding back from a repeat of last time.

"Also," Niall turns to him bodily. "I wanted to say I'm sorry about your family."

Louis freezes. No one's mentioned his family to him since he first arrived here at the Compound. When he first got here, the small group of refugees that lived here would always try to console him, rope him into some group therapy type shit. Each time, he'd lash out in some way, whether it was verbally, physically, or with his powers. It took some time, but eventually everyone learned that his family was not a point of discussion, ever.

Needless to say, Niall seems think that the rules don't apply to him.

"You don't talk about them," Louis rasps, feeling as though Niall has just punched him int the gut. "SFH scum like you don't get to talk about them."

Niall doesn't listen. "I'm sorry that your family had to die, and I'm sorry that you have to live with them being gone every day. I'm sorry that, when you see me, you see the shitty armed forces that killed your family and tried to kill you, and I'm so, so sorry that you're not wrong. For too long, I've been a part of the SFH, and I never tried to stop what they were doing. So I'm sorry." A pause. "If you're about to choke me right now, please let me know so I can, like. Leave."

A laugh breaks out of Louis's throat, almost forcefully. "'M not gonna choke you again. That was - that was stupid of me, so. Sorry, about that." He stares out at the water. "I just...you don't really know, like, just how badly I want to - I don't know, punch you or something, every time I look at you. With Liam, or Harry, it's different, for some reason, like -"

"I get it," Niall says. "They've both got that innocent look going for them. Big eyes and pouty lips, right? Makes it impossible to be mad with them for long, the twats."

"Exactly," Louis sighs, relieved that Niall understands. "I guess I just see you as a greater risk? You're - crazy renowned for being so great at finding and killing mutants so like. It's easiest to pin everything going south on you. You know?"

Niall nods. "Yeah, I do. It's fine, though. I kind of deserve it. As long as we can call a truce, for now?" He holds out a hand. Smiling crookedly, Louis shakes it. "Cool."

"Cool," Louis repeats, snorting. "So uh, now that we're at a truce...when are you and Zayn going to start shagging, then?"

Niall blanches. "What."

"You know," Louis waves vaguely. "You and Zayn. He fancies you, you know. And I'm pretty sure you and Haz haven't shagged in a while, so I think you should try and get on that. That being Zayn, I mean."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Niall stammers. Louis furrows his brow.

"Sure," he says slowly. "Right then, um, if you don't know what I'm talking about I might as well just go. There's a teen and a dog in my flat alone right now; don't really trust them."

He stands, brushing the sand of his trousers. With one last pat on the back for Niall, Louis makes his way up the beach and through the hole in the wall, back into the Compound. With no relevance to the peace talk, he's officially excused himself from the meeting concerning it. That can be left in the hands of the ones who will be there. Jade is quite smart; she'll probably have it figured out on her own in no time.

With his destination (home) in mind, Louis leaves a past enemy (Niall) behind on the beach to think about the new enemy (the SFH) ahead. It's the lightest he's felt in a while.

*•*•*

"So you're not even planning on helping with the preparations for the peace talks?" Liam frowns. He's quite frowny at the moment. "But it's partly your idea. Yours and mine and Jade's and Perrie's. You should be there."

Shrugging, Louis fights to open a window. The frame is creaky, keeps getting stuck for no reason. He should talk to Laura about it. "I'm no politician," he says lightly. "If I'm involved, we're more likely to end up dead right there at the conference."

Brows furrowed, Liam stares at the table in consideration. Finally, he nods. "You're right, actually. But anyway; Bressie wants you on a protection team. Said to get all the wall patrols together to stand guard while the peace talks are going on."

"Honestly, how do we even know that they won't be shot on sight?" Louis muses, running a hand through Craic's fur. The dog closes his eyes contentedly. "It's what they do when they go on their missions and shit. What's to stop them from doing it now?"

"Niall," Liam answers easily. "Colonel Higgins had this weird paternal instinct when it came to him; he'll be sure to protect them. For Niall's sake."

"Ah," Louis nods, not entirely convinced. He stands. "Well, I had planned on taking a kip, but if I've got a task from the head honcho himself."

Louis goes door by door, finding any and all mutants that can call up some sort of force field or move objects at will. He's decided to take Bressie's advice one step further, and make sure that there will be no impenetrable area in the Compound's perimeter. He also doesn't want to risk any projectiles being launched into their walls, and he can hold up a pretty impressive shield by himself, but the one he has in mind requires a strength he unfortunately doesn't have.

He and what mutants he can gather spend the rest of the time they have before the arrival of the convoy practicing what they can. His usual guard force have already taken up their patrols again.

Sometime in the evening, Bressie, Jade, and Niall exit Town Hall looking determined and somewhat pale, each. They march to the front gate (Louis and his team following discreetly), and Bressie takes a peek through the two grand doors at the village outside. He's barely looked through when he's reeling back, skin draining of whatever color was left. _Fucking Irish complexion,_ Louis can't help but think.

"It's them," Bressie says. "They're here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah...anyways expect a new, lengthy chapter in two weeks!!! im hashing out a new writing schedule so hopefully it works!!! thanks for sticking with me and putting up with me


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It’s not just about you anymore. It’s about your mum, your nephew. It’s about the two hundred people we have within our walls. The millions of people outside our walls, who could very well be affected by whatever goes down here in the next few days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it took me a week (?) longer than i said buut it's much longer than the last few chapter so hopefully that makes up for it :))) also no excuses but work and school and family and blah blah blah so
> 
> also general warnings for the use of a homophobic slur somewhere near the end (starts with an f and is also used to describe cigarettes) sorry but "character development"
> 
> enjoy!

**What Happened**

"Cadet Horan, if you'd like to share?"

Niall snaps his head up from the notes he'd been passing with Liam, a flush on his cheeks. "What?"

Commander Walsh scowls. "The _oh-so-interesting_ piece of paper on your desk. Would you care to share its contents with us?"

"Um," Niall glances down at the paper, where he describes in explicit detail where Commander Walsh can shove his pointer stick, then back up. "No, thank you."

 The class snickers. Noticing something on the whiteboard behind the commander, Niall leans to the side, to see around him. He just moves, further blocking Niall's view of the board.

" _Now_ you're trying to pay attention?" he asks.

Shaking his head, Niall frowns. "No, it's just - that's wrong." He points at the board. The commander scoffs.

"Excuse me?"

Impatient, Niall waves a hand at the board. "That, what you've got written, it's wrong. The Conventional Citizens Act was drafted in 1972, not eighty three. The official CCA wasn't even publicly released until eighty four." He blushes when the class laughs again, mouth open in protest. He flicks his hair out of his eyes. "Sir."

Fuming, Commander Walsh strides to Niall's desk, snatching up the notes. He then slides his textbook closer to him, and flips through the pages until he reaches the correct chapter. Niall watches the commander as his eyes flick back and forth as he skims through the page, crooked teeth biting into his lip nervously. He can see it when Walsh reaches the correct paragraph; his eyes freeze and widen, almost imperceptibly, and he straightens his stance.

"Well," he says, "at least we know you're learning _something_ , Cadet. But let it be known, I do not tolerate any distractions in my classroom. If it happens again, you will be punished accordingly." His boots click against the tiles as he walks back to the blackboard, Niall and Liam's notes folded in his hand.

Something nudges Niall's arm; it's Liam, grinning and holding out a little triangle of paper. Smothering his own grin, Niall takes it.

*•*•*

"How'd you know that, earlier?" Liam asks later, when they're in their dorm.

Niall looks over, eyes bleary from staring at his textbook for too long. "Wha?"

Shaking his head, Liam sits up from where he'd been reclining on his bed, grin on his face. "In the law class, today. How'd you know about the CCCA? Commander Walsh was right pissed at you."

Brows furrowed, Niall leans back in his chair. "Um, first off, it's the _CCA_ , not the _CCCA_ , and second off, I actually read the pages that were assigned to us." He laughs breathily. "How did you even pass the quiz today?"

Liam frowns. "Because it wasn't on that chapter. It was on the last chapter we did. Not...not the one with the CCA in it."

"What?" Brows furrowed, Niall grabs his _History of the Force_ textbook and opens the front cover, where his syllabus is stuck. Surprised, he sees that Liam was right. "Oh," he mumbles. Spinning back to Liam, he shrugs. "Messed up, I guess."

"Uh huh," Liam grunts, mouth hanging open and his brows cocked disbelievingly.

Scoffing, Niall spins back towards his desk. "Whatever, man, it's not a big deal."

Liam laughs, stretching out again. "One day, you're gonna be up in front of those classes, teaching them all about the Special Forces for Humanity, how it started and why we do what we do."

"Murder innocent people, you mean?" Niall mumbles, barely loud enough to hear. Liam turns to him.

"What?" he laughs incredulously. "That's what you think we do? Kill innocents?"

Sighing, Niall leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not having this conversation again, Payno," he says, and stands. "Going to the library."

"We're not murderers, Niall," Liam calls after him. "We're carrying out preventative maneuvers to make sure there _are_ no murderers!"

Niall slams the door behind him.

**What's Going On**

"Captain Horan," Higgins says, standing before him. He's stood with his feet apart, hands behind his back. His expression is impassive, but standing next to him is Colonel Cowell, who is anything but.

"I'm not so sure he still deserves that title, Higgins," Cowell snaps. Niall raises his chin, preparing to respond when -

"Captain Horan was never discharged, honorably or otherwise," Higgins says. "If only out of respect, we must still refer to him as a captain, _Colonel_."

Bressie, standing awkwardly just one step in front of Niall, clears his throat, a scratchy noise that draws everyone's attention. "Thank you, for meeting with us, Colonels. I’m Niall Breslin, I run the, um, the Compound, as we like to call it. This is Jade Thirlwall; she’s my second in command. We know this is, uh, unprecedented, and we don't mean to waste your time, so."

Nodding, Higgins turns and begins to walk toward the liquor store in the village. Exchanging confused looks, Niall and the others follow.

They'd found both colonels waiting for them right outside the gate. The convoy of SFH soldiers had commandeered any stores they'd deemed necessary for their use, the bed and breakfast, and even the police station. There are crowds are civilians standing on the street, hanging off each other or just watching. Niall's surprised they haven't been sent back to their homes. Or actually, he's not. If there's an audience then the SFH has an advantage; whatever goes south can be blamed on the mutants.

Although, from what Bressie and Maura and even Zayn have told him, the villagers here are a kind people. They've been hiding the Compound all this time, so why turn on them at the last second?

Niall sighs internally. This is going to be complicated.

They're lead into the back office of the liquor store, where they've already changed the decor to match Higgins's personal office despite only having arrived fifteen minutes ago. Niall has to admire their ability to commandeer an entire village in a quarter hour.

Higgins takes his place at the desk, Cowell standing behind him. There are only two empty seats in front of the desk, one immediately occupied by Bressie, and Niall offers the open seat to Jade. She takes it, a grateful smile adorning her features. Niall stands behind them, instinctively falling into position. The stiff stance is somewhat of a welcome, something familiar after months of difference.

Clearing his throat, Bressie leans forward in his seat. "Sir, we greatly appreciate -"

Higgins holds up a hand. Bressie cuts himself off, a choked sound escaping his throat before petering out. Higgins adjusts a few items on the desk, silently, while Cowell just smirks. When Bressie opens his mouth again, the colonel holds his hand up again. He continues to meticulously rearrange the same four objects in silence. Niall grits his teeth. He knows what they're doing. It's a classic scare tactic; show you're not as interested in the topic and the other party loses their fight. They believe there's no way they can win, because the SFH has the guns and bullets whereas they have nothing.

Bressie seems to catch on. "If you're just going to waste our time, sir -" Higgins holds up his hand again, not even looking up, but Bressie keeps going "- I'm afraid we'll have to leave." He sits back. "And we both know that if I leave here today there will be no preventing a battle between our two sides.

"Is that a threat?" Cowell snaps. Higgins stares at Bressie, calculating.

"No," Jade says, smiling. "It's a fact. We came here to attempt peace, but by ignoring us and driving us back into those walls, those attempts are failed ones. We have hundreds of civilians under our protection and, if our sources are correct, you've brought maybe fifty soldiers? It's not very even, with or without your guns." She shrugs. "We should start negotiating now."

Fighting a smile, Niall hides a laugh in a cough, muffled in his shoulder. He quickly straightens his expression once more when Cowell’s gaze snaps to him. He clears his throat, stifling another laugh. “Throat’s itchy, I apologize,” he chokes out. Jade turns in her seat, silencing him with a look. A blush rushes through his face.

“Here’s the thing, Colonel - Higgins, was it?” Bressie asks. Higgins nods. “All I’m trying to do is protect the people inside those walls I’ve built from laws that are - are plain violations of basic human rights, really.” Bressie shakes his head. “I know that you all see it very differently, but. The truth is, we’re all people, too. I don’t see you murdering people for having green, even though it’s a genetic mutation that makes them different from everyone else.”

Scoffing, Cowell rolls his eyes, shifting his weight. Higgins stays frozen, barely even blinking at Bressie. Undeterred, he continues.

“I’m just asking that you please, please, let my people live. The whole - point of the SFH is to protect humanity, right? So protect it. Protect people who haven’t hurt anyone, who’re only hiding because the people who claim to have their best interests in mind are trying to kill them.” Bressie sighs. “I’m not going to sit here and beg, but. That’s what I’m asking.”

Higgins nods, finally breaking his stare with Bressie. He fiddles with a pen on the desktop, tapping both sides rhythmically against a calendar pad. “Do you know how many people in the UK die yearly because of a mutant?” he asks quietly. “In a month? A week?” His eyes, in a flash of blue, rise to meet Bressie’s gaze again. Frowning, Niall begins to think, Higgins’s question sounding frighteningly similar to one on his final exam. “A day?” Met with silence, he sits up. “Two thousand five hundred and seventy. Two hundred and fourteen. Forty nine. Seven. Respectively. And you’re trying to tell me that mutants haven’t hurt anyone?”

“I’m sorry, that sounds -” Jade starts, but Higgins continues to speak over her.

“Mutants have been dated back centuries, and all that time, there hasn’t been a single year in which not one person has been hurt by a mutant.” Higgins sits forward, pointing at Bressie. “It’s inevitable, only your kind is too selfish to realize that.”

“1956,” Niall mutters. All eyes turn to him, Bressie and Jade turning in their seats.

“Excuse me, Captain?” Higgins asks.

Eyes darting around the room, Niall clears his throat, face hot again. “Um, 1956 has gone down in history as the year with the highest number of mutant-caused fatalities. Its record is striking not only because of the high number in general, but because no other year has gotten even close in the number of mutant-caused fatalities. It’s an astonishing fifty eight percent higher than the year with the second most mutant-caused fatalities, 1947, which was nine years earlier.” Shrugging, he shakes his head. “The only reason the number was so high was because mutant citizens staging peaceful protests and were forced to fight back when the government released the SFH against them.”

“For good reason,” snaps Cowell. “The point that Colonel Higgins is trying to make is -”

“Invalid,” Jade says, swiftly interrupting. She smiles, turning bodily to face the two colonels again. “The numbers you’ve chosen to share with us don’t count anymore, Colonel, haven’t since 1957, where it was proven by statistics alone that mutants aren’t just going on murderous rampages across the country.” She shrugs, a small laugh escaping her throat. “The truth is, Colonels Higgins and Cowell, that more mutants are dying because of non mutants than the other way around. We’re not the threat you think we are.”

“Then why are you hiding?” ask Higgins. “Why aren’t you out here, trying to prove your innocence to the world. Every singly country on the planet has its own SFH branch, which means -”

“Every country in the UN,” Niall interrupts. Sighing, Higgins stops speaking, letting his gaze drop to the desk momentarily.

“What, Captain?” he asks stiffly.

“Every country in the UN has its own SFH branch,” Niall clarifies. “Not every country in the world. The - the UN _wanted_ every country in the world to have its own branch, but they could only make it a thing in the countries they had a semblance of control over.”

Smug, Bressie sits back in his seat. “We may not have been given the same education as your soldiers, but we’ve got three of them inside our walls right now, and they know exactly when you’re trying to pull one on us. So I suggest you cut the crap and take this seriously. We’re talking about innocent lives here, children and women and elderly who have lived their entire lives in the dark because you think they don’t deserve to live!” Bressie’s voice rises with each word, as does his size, and Higgins leans back in his seat, Cowell taking a physical step back.

“Stand down, sir,” snaps Cowell. “You will speak to us with respect, and you will not use your ungodly mutation in our presence.”

Breathing heavily, Bressie looks down at himself. Having thought ahead, he’d worn loose clothing and shoes while still looking as formal as possible, fortunately for him. He closes his eyes, steadying his breaths, and sighs heavily.

“My apologies,” he says quietly.

Cowell, regaining his composure, steps forward once more. “You will not show force in this room again, sir, and if you do so you will be forcibly removed. You are obviously not taking this conversation as seriously as you should be, otherwise you would control yourself!” He snaps his gaze to Niall, expressions furious. Niall has to force himself to stay still and not jerk back in fear. “And you! How dare you bring these abominations to us? You above all others should know how unpredictable they are in their freakish ways!”

Gritting his teeth, Niall takes a step forward. “They are not abominations! Name the last recorded mutant who actually did something to deserve being murdered! I can; Jessica Long, who was depressed and psychotic but couldn’t afford the proper medication to make sure she didn’t have a mental collapse. We prevent these people from being able to help themselves and blame it on them when they do exactly what we force them to. They’re not ungodly; they’re people, just like us.”

“I will not stand to be disrespected in this way!” Cowell shouts. He whips his fury at Jade, locking her in his sights. She jumps in her seat, placing her hands on the armrests and clenching hard enough for her knuckles to turn white. “You should have been turned in and killed the moment your parents figured out that you were an unnatural freak!” He whips a gun from his belt, aiming it at her, and shouts in pain, gripping his side where Niall shot him only days before.

The room fills with shouts as Cowell waves the gun around, trying to aim through the pain in his side. Higgins shoots to his feet, reaching out for the gun. Bressie lurches to cover Jade with his steadily growing body. Niall rushes to do the same. Jade stands slowly, reaching for Cowell.

After wrestling the gun from Cowell’s grasp, Higgins forces him into his seat. Breathing heavily, he shoves the gun into his waistband and straightens his shirt. Bressie - now back to his normal size once again - wrestles to keep Jade away from Cowell. She grunts, struggling to break from his hold, and yells, “I can help him, stop!”

“He doesn’t want your help, Jade!” Bressie shouts back. Cowell flinches away when their struggle bumps into the desk, displacing it. Higgins wipes his brow, hand on his own handgun, carefully watching Bressie and Jade. Niall stands by, helpless.

“Keep that thing away from me,” Cowell snaps. He pulls his hand back from his side, the blood draining from his face when it comes back red. “Paul, I think I’ve pulled my stitches again, the damn things. Get a medic in here, now. An experienced one; I don’t need some imbecile putting shoestrings in me again.”

Higgins shakes his head. “It’s the fourth time since they were put in that you’ve pulled them,” he says. “Maybe it’s not the stitches but _you_ , Simon.” He ignores Cowell’s sputtering, turning to Jade. “What do you mean by you can help him?” he asks calmly, hand still on his gun.

Finally getting out of Bressie’s grip, Jade straightens her skirt and brushes her hair away from her face. Its silver hues are in full swing, barely an inch of dark brown sitting at her roots. Fighting to calm her breathing, she stands straight. “It’s my mutation. One of them, at least. I can heal any physical injuries or illnesses presented to me. I could heal _your_ wound, permanently,” she directs the last part to Cowell, who scoffs and turns away.

“As if I would ever let one of your kind lay even a finger on me,” he grunts.

Bressie turns to face him. “You should; you’ll be perfectly fine if you let her.”

Cowell scoffs again, glancing at Higgins, who’s staring at Jade curiously. “You’re not actually considering this, are you?”

Higgins stays silent, the room growing tense. No one says anything, no one daring to move a muscle as Higgins and Jade stare each other down. Finally, he nods at her. “Do it.”

 _“What?!”_ Cowell shrieks. Higgins holds a hand up to him, pulling out his gun. Jade takes a step back, raising her chin warily as Bressie moves to block her again.

“If you do anything but heal him, I will kill you,” he says calmly. “If you don’t do as you say and heal him completely, I will kill you. If either of you,” he looks at Bressie and Niall, “move at all, to scratch your nose or your arm or your arse, I will kill you. Am I understood?” Silence. _“Am I understood?”_

“Sir, yes, sir,” Niall blurts. Bressie nods.

“What he said,” he mutters.

“Of course,” Jade adds.

Nodding, Higgins waves Jade over to Cowell, using the gun. She walks slowly, warily eyeing the gun, and steps around the desk to reach Cowell. He flinches away, wincing. He uses his feet to push his chair away from her, whimpering when it bumps into a shelf holding various liquor bottles behind him. He scrunches his face in fear as Jade approaches, hands held out as if trying to calm a cornered animal. When she reaches him, she places her hands on his side, right next to where his lays on the wound.

A collective gasp fills the room when her hands begin to glow silver. Niall watches in trepidation as Cowell grunts, prompting Higgins to cock the gun, Jade standing completely still all the while. She closes her eyes in concentration, brow furrowing. She pulls back slowly, when Cowell breathes out, a long gush of air. He rips his shirt open, revealing his hairy chest and slight potbelly, and twists to examine his side. He whimpers quietly when he sees clean, unmarred skin, not a scar or scratch left behind. It’s as if he never had a wound in the first place, the only evidence being six torn stitches and a smear of blood.

Stepping away from the desk quickly, Jade places herself at Bressie’s side again, hands held up. “See?” she says. “I healed him.”

Higgins keeps his gun aimed at her. “Well done,” he says. “I didn’t think it would work, truth to be told. Wasn’t really sure if I could trust you, you know. Considering your past.”

Clearing her throat, Jade shakes her hair away from her face. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” she says.

A sympathetic smile graces Higgins’s features. “Don’t you, Miss Thirlwall? I know who you are. Let’s see. You were a medical student at Queen Mary’s, in the doctoral program, weren’t you? Quite an achievement, at your age. Managed it the age of, what, twenty? But then you murdered your professor, and fled the scene.”

Bressie grabs a hold of Jade’s hand. “Ignore him, Jade. Let’s just go. We’re obviously getting nowhere with these men.”

“Ah ah ah,” Higgins hums, waving the gun again. “You forget who has the power right now. We’ve got guns, you haven’t. From what I’ve seen, all you can do is grow like some glorified peacock, and she’s just a very fancy band aid. You’re not going anywhere.”

Still in shock, Cowell slowly buttons his shirt back up. “Paul,” he says quietly. “You said you’d let her live. Just - just let them go and we’ll continue talking tomorrow.”

“Here’s the thing,” Higgins says, smiling cruelly.

“I lied.”

*•*•*

“How do you think they’re doing?” Harry asks quietly. They’re sitting in the canteen, where most of the other civilians of the Compound are gathered. He’s got Theo on his hip and Zayn by his side, both which feel foreign to him. He’s never really gotten along with Zayn, and has barely spent any time with Theo, despite fucking around with Niall for most of the time they’ve been here. He turns to the former, brows raised.

Zayn, who’s sketching a tree with just the tips of his fingers, shrugs. “Dunno. They’ve only been in there for what, half an hour? Maybe more? Nothing important can get done in that time.”

“Unless they’re already dead,” Harry mutters. Zayn shoots him a dirty look. “What? It’s totally possible, you know it. They’re all three wanted by the government for one reason or another; they could’ve been shot the second they crossed the gate.”

“You know, for being famed for your optimism, you’re not very optimistic,” Zayn says, straightening in his seat. He glances at his sketchbook, giving it a poke. A burst of green spreads from the place he touches, filling the formerly gray leaves with various shades of green, looking like the most lifelike drawing Harry has ever seen. He sighs. 

“Who has ever famed me for being optimistic,” he mutters.

They sit in silence before glancing at each other, both saying “Niall,” at the same time and bursting into laughter.

“Niii,” Theo adds happily, holding up a stuffed lion. Harry nods, cooing nonsense at him, and bumps Zayn’s shoulder.

“How is he, anyway?” he asks lightly. “Still waking up because of nightmares?”

Shaking his head, Zayn drags his fingers across the page, leaving a streak of a gradient rainbow across it. “I wouldn’t know. He avoids me like the plague, honestly. Last time we had an actual conversation was when he asked me why I make such horrible pancakes.” Harry snorts. “They’re not even that bad.”

“You don’t understand,” Harry says. “Pancakes are, according to Niall, the most sacred of all breakfast foods. If they’re not made by him, they’re not good enough. God, I remember one time he started an actual, full blown fight because I added cinnamon to a batch I made once. He - he freaked, so hard.”

Frowning, Zayn looks out towards the general direction of the gate. “God, I hope he’s okay,” he mumbles. “Kid doesn’t deserve half of what he gets.”

“Kid?” Harry scoffs. “He’s barely a year younger than you.”

Zayn is just about to answer when Liam comes rushing in through the main doors, eyes darting around before landing on Harry. He runs over, dodging any extra limbs or stray objects. Skidding to a stop, he places his hands on the table, breathing heavily.

“There was gunfire,” he gasps. He holds a hand to his side. “A shot rang out, but it was only one, and we haven’t got any eyes on them.” Harry and Zayn jump to their feet, questions tumbling from each of them, but Liam waves a hand. “Louis said he’s going to leave the walls, his protection is the strongest out of everyone else’s so he’ll be safest. But he’ll need reinforcements if he comes back with them, and I didn’t know who else to go to.” He stares at the both of them, big brown eyes full of worry. “We can’t let anyone get hurt, not after all this.”

“Nice to see you’ve changed your mind about all this,” Harry says, a small smile on his face. Liam shrugs.

“Just needed some gentle persuading,” he says, still breathing heavily. “Haven’t really had any good influences till I got here.” He tips his head to the side, considering. “Well, Niall was pretty good, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make. Now come on, we’ve gotta go help.”

Harry frowns at Theo. “Um…what should I do with this?” He winces at how insensitive he must sound to Theo’s predicament, but powers through. “Maura’s out with the agricultural unit; her and Perrie are trying to plan for next season.”

“If there is a next season,” Zayn mutters, but he sets his sketchbook down and stands. “Leave him with Lou; she can watch over him and make sure he’s okay. Plus, her kid can keep him company.”

They drop Theo off with Lou at her little house by the wall, and Harry wants to warn her, to tell her to leave, because there’s a battle that’s brewing and they’re right on the border. The first target of the SFH will be their wall, their form of protection; they’ll bomb it or knock it down or worse. Lou’s right in the way of that. But he doesn’t say anything, not wanting to worry her anymore than she probably already is. She’s one of the department heads, deals with personal effects - clothes, hygiene products, the like - but she made it clear from her instatement that she wouldn’t be in the middle of things, wouldn’t be a part of the council meetings, not with a young girl depending on her.

(Once, she’d told Harry that she never stops worrying. That she always has a voice hanging around the back of her mind telling her to dip, to leave, to get away from what is possibly the biggest cluster of mutants in the country, in the entire island they live on, in the world. He’s told her it can’t be possible, not with countries as populated as China or the States, but she never agrees. Says that when you’ve got a life that won’t thrive unless you’re there it always feels like the biggest thing.

Harry never knew how to tell her she’s safe, how to tell her that Lux is going to grow big and strong in an environment where she’ll be encouraged to be herself, to use her abilities. An environment that won’t try to kill her for being different. He can’t know, though, because the exact thing she’s been trying to run from is the exact thing that’s sitting outside her environment right now.)

Liam directs them to where Louis is waiting just inside the gate, bouncing on his feet as if he’s got too much energy and can’t get rid of it quick enough. He nods when he sees the three of them, a stiff jerk of the head that seems almost too stiff, for someone as loose as Louis. The only time Harry has ever seen Louis be stiff was when he, Niall, and Liam showed up, respectively.

They stop right in front of Louis, a loose circle that reminds Harry of his days in the force, but missing something. A captain, he realizes. They’re missing a captain.

“So can I go now?” Louis snaps, half-turning to the wall. He raises his eyebrows meaningfully, waving a hand in a small gesture at the wall. Liam shakes his head.

“We still don’t know what’s going on out there,” he says. Louis groans, throwing his head back. “No, listen, okay, if we go in there with no idea of what’s going on people are going to die.”

Harry raises a hand tentatively. “To be honest, someone could already be dead. We should go in now. Or, well, Louis should go in now.”

Louis nods sarcastically. “Thanks, mate.” Harry shrugs. “Now, if you’ve not got any other objections…” he trails off, meeting each of their gazes meaningfully. “No? Good. Alright, so I’m going to go in, find our guys, and come right back. Don’t send anyone in after me, not unless it’s been a while. A while being a few hours, like. I can get them out, guaranteed, I just can’t guarantee that they’ll be out anytime soon. So.”

“Thought your thing was protecting people, Lou?” Zayn asks. “Why would it take a few hours for you to get them out?”

Sighing, Louis turns to him. “Here’s the thing; I can’t hold up a mental or physical shield for myself easy, no time limit at all. It’s like a part of me, so it’s no strain. But to extend that shield to someone else takes some effort, especially depending on just how much force is being thrown at that shield. Understand?” He shrugs. “Besides, I don’t even know where they are.”

They all nod, Zayn looking chastised. Louis turns to the gate and signals to the woman standing guard. The gate opens a crack, and he slips through with an exaggerated wink in the guys’ direction. With a two fingered salute, he closes the gate behind him.

“Now, we die,” Harry says cheerfully. He takes half a step back when the other two boys look at him. “What? What, I was joking!”

*•*•*

Sighing, Louis strolls down the main street of the village. It’s empty, not a single person standing about. Even the windows of the shops lining the street are empty, curtains drawn and the lights behind them shut off. There’s a soft breeze coming off the ocean, and a crumpled up ball of paper skirts along the pavement in front of him. He scoffs, rolling his eyes, and turns to the first storefront he meets. It’s a liquor store, a dim light coming from the lone display window.

Approaching the window, Louis cups his hands against the glass so he can see inside. All there is are rows of shelves lined up against the four walls of a small room, filled with bottles of different kinds of vodka, beer, the like. There’s a small counter decorated with a till and some novelty scotch tumblers. A small doorway leads to a hallway, the source of light in the dimly lit room.

“A good a start as any,” Louis mumbles quietly, and tries the knob on the door. It’s locked. Sighing heavily for what feels like the hundredth time, he squats down in front of the knob. He curls a fist around it and shuts his eyes, concentrating on the shape and feel of the handle. Pushing further, he sees in his mind’s eye the tumblers in the lock, and gently coerces them to shift in the correct direction. With a slightly audible click, the door unlocks, the knob turning freely under his palm. Grinning satisfactorily, he slowly pushes the door open, simultaneously standing to his full height, and takes a cautious step inside. There’s muffled yelling coming from the hallway and he grimaces, hoping he hasn’t just walked in on a rowing family.

As he creeps closer, he looks around the small shop. It is, by small-town standards, quite small, barely bigger than his room back in the Compound. Making sure to keep his shield up, Louis lightly treads into the hallway. There’s only two doors, which he presumes lead to the office and the loo, but only one is the source of all the yelling. He can hear Bressie’s familiar voice; loud, overwhelming, and commanding, all pouring through the small gap underneath the door. Head tilted to the side, Louis steps closer, hand gripping the doorknob, and just as he begins to twist -

The door flies open, a harried black girl with her hair in beaded twists coming face to face with him. She takes a startled step back, then raises a gun at him. The bullet pings off his shield and hits her directly in the chest, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ as she freezes. Slowly, her head bows down to stare at her chest, where a blue circle of liquid has made a mark in her red shirt. Frowning, Louis reaches forward to catch her as she collapses, and sees Jade standing right behind her. A relieved grin breaks out onto her face, and she reaches forward to wrap her arms around him, until she realizes that he’s got an unconscious bird weighing him down.

“Bressie!” she calls, and he appears behind her, easily grabbing the bird around the waist and slinging her over his shoulder. There are two men slumped in the desk chair on the far side of the room, a prone Niall staring at them in shock. His mouth is hanging half open, his posture is slumped, and Louis does not have time for this right now. He stalks over, grabs him by the arm, and drags him to the door, where Jade and Bressie are making their escape. They follow the other two silently, not saying anything until they’ve made it back through the gate. Liam, Zayn, and Harry are still standing there, now accompanied by Maura and Perrie. Jade runs into her girlfriend’s arms, Niall stumbles into Maura’s, and Louis stares at Liam.

“Well?” he snaps, and holds out his arms. Smiling crookedly in bemusement, Liam folds himself into them. Louis pats his back, and mumbles, “I’m only doing this because I enjoy seeing those two over there looking uncomfortable in their solidarity.” And he pushes Liam away, feeling his cheeks go hot, which is strange in itself. Only a few days ago, he hated this man, and now hugging him is making his blush. Christ, he feels fifteen again, not knowing whether or not he actually likes someone. Nodding awkwardly, Louis turns to Zayn and Harry, the former of which looks unimpressed.

“Thought it was gonna take you hours?” he says dully. Louis shrugs.

“I’m just that good, I guess.” At Zayn’s blank stare, he concedes. “Okay, so they were in the first building I checked. It was luck, I’ll admit it. Barely any work on my part.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jade laughs, pulling herself out of Perrie’s embrace. “You got that soldier knocked out, which made transporting her that much easier.”

Niall scoffs. “I told you, Leigh Anne wasn’t trying to hurt us; she’s on our side.” He gestures to Bressie, who’s been kneeling beside the prone body of the girl, which he’d laid out on the ground. “She wasn’t aiming at Brez, she was aiming at Cowell. Which is why she hit him, and then Higgins. She’s one of our best shots; she never missed. If she wanted to shoot you, she would have.”

Everyone scrambles to have their opinion heard, stepping towards each other aggressively until Bressie holds his hands up. Like a telly being turned off, everyone quiets down. “This can be settled in the Town Hall. We’ll take Leigh Anna to the infirmary and leave a guard detail on her, so we can be sure she won’t try anything. Then we’ll debrief and rehash in the council room. Got it?” He meets the gaze of everyone standing in their circle, and no one dares to do anything but nod. “Good,” he says, and lifts the girls again. As he makes his way to Town Hall, Harry calls after him.

“It’s Leigh Anne,” he says. Bressie stops, turning, his brows quirked in question. “Her name. It’s Leigh Anne, not Leigh Anne.” Harry nods to her body. “She was on our team. Probably the best on our team, if I’m to be completely honest.”

“He’s right,” says Liam. “If it wasn’t for her, we’d all be dead by now. Including the two of you, if I understand correctly, so. We can trust her.” Bressie turns to Niall silently, waiting for him to say something in the girl’s defense.

He just shakes his head, brows furrowed. “What they said. I need to - to lie down, or something.”

Louis stares as he gently pries his arm from his mother’s grasp and walks in the direction of his and Zayn’s apartment. He makes to go after him, but Liam places a hand on his shoulder.

“It won’t work,” he says gently. “The kid can only take so much in one day. He used to do this all the time back at base; right after every mission he’d just...block everything else out. Everyone. He’ll come back when he’s ready. We’ve just got to give him time.”

“Always been like that, he has,” Maura says. “Never let me try to talk to him unless he wanted to. “Quite frustrating, really. Don’t know how many times I had to pick his lock door open when he was a kid.”

Vaguely uncomfortable with the innocent anecdote for reasons he can’t quite name, Louis nods stiffly. “Right, then. If the new guy can take a nap, so can I, so. I’m gonna go. Do that.” He pulls on Liam’s arm, dragging him along. “Liam is coming with me.”

They walk in silence back to their flat, and Liam doesn’t let go of Louis’s hand all the way. In fact, he twines his fingers in between Louis’s, getting a better grip on his hand. Louis wouldn’t say it if anyone asked, but he has to tamper down a smile until they get through the door. Once they are, he pushes Liam against it, slamming it shut, and places his hands firmly on his chest.

“Thing is, Liam, I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says breathlessly. “I hated your kind before you and your gang showed up, and even after you came. But...seeing the way you’re fighting for us after only having been with us for a few months has made me realize that maybe - maybe not all SFH soldiers are mindless robots. Maybe some of you do have hearts, you know? So, here’s the plan: we’re going to kiss, maybe screw, if we’ve got the time, and then we’re going to go to that meeting. And after that, we’ll sit down and figure out what we’re going to do about us.’

“There’s an us?” Liam asks quietly, disbelievingly. He shakes his head. “We barely know each other.”

Shrugging, Louis tilts his head. “Maybe so, but still. Khloe Kardashian and Lamar Odem got married after just one month.”

“And then he became a drug addict and they had to get divorced,” Liam says slowly, confused. “Are you trying to suggest that we should get married?”

A sly grin on his face, Louis shakes his head. “No,” he mumbles. “Just that we should shag.” And he presses a biting kiss onto Liam’s lips, swallowing down the surprised grunt Liam lets out. It barely takes any time for the soldier to recover, quickly gaining the upper hand. It’s refreshing, Louis has to admit, to be able to meet someone’s who's bite is actually bigger than their bark.

Panting, Louis pulls back. “You’re not going to regret this afterwards, are you?”

Liam frowns. “No, why would I?”

Louis shrugs again. “Just gotta make sure, you know?” He kisses him again, making quick work of Liam’s shirt. A few buttons clatter onto the wooden floor where Louis forgets to be gentle, but Liam doesn’t seem to mind. They kiss furiously, fighting to gain the upper hand, until Liam reaches out and grabs Louis’s bum in his hands, squeezing. Louis groans, falling forward into Liam’s chest.

The shirt is ripped from Liam’s shoulders, falling to the floor and exposing his chest. Louis grunts in appreciation, running a hand over Liam’s defined abs. He pulls back, an impressed smirk on his face. “Didn’t know you were ripped, man. This is very nice,” he laughs, poking Liam’s gut.

Unimpressed, Liam tilts his head. “I’m a trained soldier; you think I’m not going to be fit?”

“Well - "

“What are you _doing_?” a voice rings out from the staircase, and they spring apart, Louis turning to face the intruder. Seamus stands with his feet on different steps, hands on the railing. His expression is one of disgust, mouth dropped open in horror and brows furrowed together. “That’s gross, guys. You could at least make sure the house is empty next time, you know?” He clatters down the steps, clunky farm boots ringing dully against the metal stairs, and rips his coat off the rack underneath the steps. Shrugging it on aggressively, as only a fifteen year old can do, he throws them another disgusted look and whistles sharply. Sharp claws click against the wood as Craic comes scrambling across the flat to his owner’s side.

Seamus approaches them, curly red hair more tousled than usual. His eyes are sleep-heavy, and Louis can’t help but feel bad. The younger boy stares at Liam until he realizes how he’s still pressed against the door, a startled ‘oh!’ escaping him as he shuffles away. A sarcastically grateful smile on his face, Seamus nods and swings the door open. Craic scrambles out first, and Seamus follows, stepping back in at the last second with one hand on the knob and one on the doorsill.

“Use protection, yeah?” he smirks. “Don’t need my das getting chlamydia only days after adopting me.” He rushes out, slamming the door behind him, when Liam and Louis both swing at him. His laughs echo from outside, Craic's matching barks ringing out in tune.

They turn to each other again, any heat from earlier gone.

Liam chuckles, scratching at his chest. “Well, that’s a mood killer, innit?”

Sighing, Louis bends over to pick up Liam’s discarded, yelping when Liam grabs at his arse. He jerks upright again, fabric slipping from his fingers when Liam steps in close behind him, barely taller.

“Actually, that just brought the mood back,” he says into Louis’s ear quietly. “D’you want to do this in your room or mine?”

“Well,” gasps Louis, feeling overwhelmed, “considering my room is separated from the living room by a blanket hanging on the wall, I think yours is a better option.” He feels it when Liam grins, his lips dragging against his skin with the movement and making him shudder.

“Lead the way, then.”

*•*•*

Niall sighs, dropping face first onto his bed. He’s exhausted, feeling the same way he usually does when coming back from a mission. Today has exhausted him in the way the missions used to, leaving him without any strength. It’s frustrating, that this feeling has come back right when he thought he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

Sighing, he turns over, struggling to breathe with his face in the sheets. He fists a hand in his hair, tugging hard enough to feel tears prick his eyes. He squeezes them shut, pressing a few out.

Higgins had done the exact opposite of what he had expected. While Niall was in training, and even after, Higgins always told him to do the right thing for all, not just for some. To threaten to shoot someone even after they’ve saved his colleague is doing - not what he said. Niall had looked up to him for years, had figured that if he stayed in the SFH after his required time was up, he’d try to become the colonel’s assistant or something, just to stay close to the man who gave him the courage to not give up, to always look for the bright side of things.

A knock on the door startles Niall out of his gloomy thoughts, and he unclenches his fist, leaving a prickly feeling behind on his scalp. He sits up in bed, calls out, “Come in.”

The door slowly swings open, revealing Zayn, a sheepish expression adorning his features. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Just wanted to check on you, make sure you were okay.”

Niall nods. “Course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be.”

Zayn hovers at the edge of his bed, sitting hesitantly when Niall waves. “Um, because your old boss almost shot Jade today with no remorse? And because this is starting to be a lot more complicated than we were hoping for it be? I mean,” he folds a leg under the other, “we had expected this to be a simple peace talk, with both parties listening openly to what the other had to say. And yet, here we are, with yet another rogue soldier within our walls, after what was supposed to be the beginning of one of the biggest civil rights movements in - in the UK, I guess? Because the SFH are linked through all of Ireland and England, and also -”

“Yes, Zayn, the UK,” Niall interrupts, a small laugh building in his chest. He pushes it down, not understanding where it’s coming from. Sure, seeing a cute boy flounder in what was supposed to be some sort of motivational talk can be endearing, but he doesn’t want to be endeared right now. He wants to be left alone in his exhaustion.

Nodding, Zayn chuckles awkwardly. “Right, yeah. But, you know, my point is -”

“Why are you here, Zayn?” Niall asks bluntly. Frozen mid sentence, Zayn’s eyes dart around the room, his mouth hanging open like some sort of fish.

Closing it, he clears his throat nervously. “Well, um, you see. Your mum, she said that you like to be left alone when you get into moods like these, yeah? But I don’t think that’s very healthy?” He scrunches his shoulders up to his ears, not letting them down. “When I was a kid and I got into a mood like this, I wanted to be alone as well, but my mum would always come after me like, _you’re not getting away with not talking to me_ , type thing. And it actually made me feel a lot better, afterwards? To talk it out. So, basically, what I’m trying to say is. I think you should talk to me. Just because I can tell you from experience that it works.”

He stares at Niall expectantly, biting his lip.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Niall sighs for what feels like the hundredth time in the last few hours. “I don’t need to talk, Zayn,” he lies. Unable to meet Zayn’s gaze, he picks at a loose thread on the duvet. “I’m fine, really. Just tired, is all.”

Shaking his head, Zayn lets his shoulders fall, lets his lip escape the abuse of his teeth. “You know, Niall, my gift doesn’t just let me put color into things. It lets me take them away, lets me change them, change the way someone sees them. I know what it feels like to be truly, absolutely blind. Because grey is a color too, you know.” As he speaks, he slowly raises a hand, pressing a finger to Niall’s temple. The other boy flinches, tries to twitch away from the touch but Zayn doesn’t let him. He follows the movement, concentrating. “You’re isolating yourself emotionally, not knowing how it’s going to feel when you’re actually isolated physically, for the rest of your life.” Niall’s breathing grows heavier, his eyes dart around the room, unseeing. “You shouldn’t do this to yourself, not when you don’t know what you’re actually getting yourself into.”

“Stop, Zayn,” whimpers Niall, rough breaths escaping his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them wide, trying to see something, anything.

“I’m just trying to show you, Niall, that what you’re doing to yourself isn’t safe, or healthy, or smart,” Zayn whispers. He blinks away a few tears to clear his vision, hating himself for doing this. “When you push people away, they eventually give up, and they leave. And then they don’t come back. They leave you and you end up alone and it hurts, Niall. I know, I do, it’s hard to let people in after so long of keeping them out, but it’s so worth it, really.”

“You really need to stop,” Niall bites out, gritting his teeth. Zayn stays silent, and still up to Niall’s temple, and wets his lips, biting into them. “Zayn?” Niall’s voice cracks on the single syllable, and Zayn breathes in deep enough to strain his chest. He lets it out slowly, not saying anything. Niall’s hand shoots up, grabbing Zayn’s wrist and pulling it away from his head. Zayn can feel the color pour back into Niall’s vision, like watercolor paints spilling over a canvas, and he gasps. He forgets how saturated colors are when they’re first restored, every time.

Shooting to his feet and pacing to the corner of the room, Niall waves a finger at Zayn. “You can’t just do that, you arse! Did - did you really think that by - by assaulting me and taking away my sight you would get me to talk? I mean, what do you want me to say, huh? You want me to say that I regret with my entire _being_ the last, what, seven years of my life? Want me to say that I wish I had told Craig that he shouldn’t listen to his da, that we weren’t doing anything wrong? Because I do, okay? Both! I wish I had fought when I was recruited, wish I had told Higgins to shove it and fuck off, wish I had fought when Craig hugged me that last time and said we couldn’t hang out anymore.” He shakes his head, eyes wide, and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not one of the most qualified soldiers the SFH has ever seen because I’m just that good, okay, it’s because I’m a coward. I was too scared to tell Craig not to listen to his da, I was too scared to tell Higgins that I didn’t want to go with him that day. And I’m terrified to shit right now, with all this shit going on. _Gotta protect the people_ , they told me, _gotta kill the mutants because they’re a threat to society._ But then I get here and it’s like, _gotta protect the mutants because the people are threat to them and want them to die._ I mean, what the fuck!”

He ends on a yell, throwing his arm out and hitting it against a snow globe on the shelf beside him. It goes tumbling down, hitting the carpet below with enough force to crack the glass. Niall and Zayn watch as the water inside begins to seep out, staining the carpet. Slowly, almost painfully, Niall squats down to pick it up. He turns it over in his hand, so the water doesn’t pour out anymore, and he breathes in shakily.

“I figured out I was gay when I turned fourteen and saw some guy shirtless in a movie,” he whispers. “I figured out my family wouldn’t approve when my brother switched the channel and said something about pandering to fags, and my da laughed and agreed. My mam, she never explicitly said that it was wrong, but I could see the way she looked at those couples when we went to Tesco; I know how she felt. Which is really fucking hypocritical, now that I think about it, because she’s just like them. Different, I mean. So I pretended I liked girls. And then I went to tryouts for the footie team and got distracted by Craig. And I didn’t make the team but I went to practice every day after school from then on. Just to see him.”

“Did you...do it, with him?” Zayn asks quietly.

Niall laughs wetly, running a finger over the crack in the snow globe. “No,” he says. “Just kissed. A lot. For like, a month. And then his da caught us and beat him, and. We had to stop. Next day, I was recruited into the SFH by none other than Colonel Paul Higgins himself. And my journey of self hate started.”

He doesn’t look up as Zayn pads over to him, footsteps muffled on the carpet. Zayn squats in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Niall flinches, but doesn’t pull back. “You know, usually when someone’s family doesn’t accept them being gay they tend to come out in an environment that doesn’t mesh with their home. So, for you it would have been at your training facility. Why didn’t you come out then?”

Squinting, Niall peers up at him. “How do you know this?”

Zayn shrugs with one shoulder. “I was studying to be a psychologist, before I came here.”

Niall shakes his head. “The other trainees kept calling the mutants we learned about names. Fairy, and the like. And I just - I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to fit in, and actually attempt to enjoy what was going to be some of the most important years of my life. So.” He sniffs, swiping a hand over his eyes, and stands. “That’s my sob story, take from it whatever you want. I’d like to be alone now.”

Shocked, Zayn stays squatted, staring at the empty space where Niall was. He’s frozen in place, unsure of how to proceed. “I -”

“Please, Zayn,” Niall says quietly. “Just leave.”

So he does. He leaves Niall alone for the rest of the day, only coming back to ask him if he wants anything to eat. Bressie never even asks him to go to the debrief, which he’s grateful for. It’s not until the sun has fallen and the sky is marked with stars that a knock on his door interrupts him from his day-long mope. Jade opens the door, smiling softly and holding a covered plate. She lets herself in, perching on the edge of his bed and setting the plate down.

“Not hungry,” Niall mumbles, turning to lie on his side.

She laughs quietly. “Not for you,” she answers. Uncovering the plate, she reveals a serving of food that’s clearly only enough for one person. Without any preamble, she digs in, eating in silence. It goes on like that for the next few minutes, until Niall sighs.

“What do you want, Jade?” he groans, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Well,” she says, “the debrief went well, no thanks to you. Your friend Leigh Anne is okay; Harry is with her now.” Finished, she sets aside her plate. “We’ve decided how to move on from here. Per Leigh Anne’s request, we’re going back for your sergeant, Jesy. Once we’ve got her, we’re going to separate any of our citizens who are willing to fight and can from any who aren’t or can’t, and we’re going to start training. It’s only a matter of time before those soldiers come tearing through our walls, and we need to be prepared. You and Liam are going to lead them in their training, strategy and the like. You two know how the SFH fight better than the rest of us, so it’s only obvious that you should be the ones to do it.” As she talks, she tidies up after herself, sweeping up any crumbs she left behind and covering the plate again. Standing, she straightens out her skirt and picks the plate up. “We start divvying up tomorrow, so be prepared.”

She makes to leave after that, opening the door and making it halfway through when Niall calls after her, “Wait.” She turns back to him, brows quirked.

“What if I say no?” he asks. “What if I don’t want to fight or - or to teach anyone to fight.”

“Well," Jade says, turning back to the door. “You’d be sadly mistaken to think we’re giving you a choice, Captain. It’s not just about you anymore. It’s about your mum, your nephew. It’s about the two hundred people we have within our walls. The millions of people outside our walls, who could very well be affected by whatever goes down here in the next few days.”

Hand on the knob, she looks at him over her shoulder. “Don’t look so upset, love. Just - see it as paying reparations for all the lives you took when you were on the wrong side.” She closes the door after herself, and Niall sighs, prying his arm off his face. Sitting up, a flash of white against the blue duvet catches his eye. He grabs it, seeing that it’s an index card, a loopy font scrawling across it.

 _We go tonight,_ it says. _It’s about time this team was whole again. - LA x_


End file.
